Psychosomatic Agency
by nekobotan
Summary: Shounen ai, 3x4, 1x2, and 5xH, 6x13. Quatre comes home, supposively rehabilitated... Unfinished.
1. Part 1

Psychosomatic Agency  
Part 1  
By tan

* * *

**Warnings:** AU, shounen ai, 3x4, 1x2, 5xH, sap, etc. To be expected from me.  
**Disclaimer:** First time including one; bad me. I don't own Gundam Wing or any characters therein. I do sort of own the alternate universe plot. Sort of... That's it.  
**Summary:** Quatre Winner has just been released from Arcadia Asylum, for claiming to be able to feel other people's emotions.

* * *

**Dedication:** This is dedicated to those that emailed me and begged me to finish this. I thought that it was just a lost cause. Don't know where my inspiration came from, but I'm glad it returned. I hope that I didn't disappoint! ^_^ MWahahaha.  
  


  
  
**PART 1**  
  


  
  


"Approved." 

Quatre sighed heavily, and closed his eyes. They itched, and were probably bloodshot from a week of sleepless nights. A full week of hoping.... 

_Hope is so draining_, he realized sadly. _No wonder father gave up on me...._

"Release date is immediate. Congratulations Mr. Winner. Your days of healing at Arcadia are completed." 

Something soft, and warm attached itself to Quatre's back, and arms circled his shoulders to clasp in tight fists before him. Quatre opened his eyes to look at the small, feminine hands that held so tightly... Iria sighed in his ear. A sudden and powerful wave of adoration, and of relief, flooded through her. Quatre stiffened in her hug. 

_I don't feel other people's emotions--_ he thought fiercely, pulling from Iria's grasp so they could leave the tiny suffocating interview room. The lawyers would take care of the paperwork. _Like Dr. Peerson said; it's just my imagination. If I take my medication, I'll be fine...._ But the words were hollow, even in Quatre's mind. He sighed softly, and quieted the internal debates. _Later,_ he assured them. 

He walked past his empty, sterile white room with out looking in and continued down the hall to where none of Arcadia's patients had been in a long time. The greeting hall; your first glimpse of Arcadia, and your last of the outside world. 

Iria didn't speak at first. She kept her iron grip on Quatre's arm and glared at their guide, who was trying to make polite conversation. The effect of the 24 year-old Winner's icy blue eyes was enough to cow the girl, and the rest of the walk was silent. They arrived at the securely locked double doors and were admitted after a lengthy check on each person's identity. Quatre's heart jumped eagerly when a flash of light erupted past the door. It was not fluorescent; _It's sunlight--_ he breathed deeply, still smelling antiseptic and cold linoleum, but focusing more on the new scent. 

_Grass_, he realized. _And sun and air--_ he felt his eyes burn as the sun streamed directly into the windows that lined Arcadia's greeting hall. It was painful, and he couldn't help but squint and grimace along with his smile. 

_My first glimpse and I can't even look at it,_ he grumbled. Concern drifted up from Iria and a gentle pressure lighted upon his nose. 

"Open your eyes, baby," she chirped. "I brought them especially for you-- hey, they look better than I thought they would!" She laughed as Quatre pursed his lips indignantly. He opened his eyes. 

The light was dulled, but pleasantly, by a stylish pair of sunglasses. Quatre adjusted them and smiled his thanks. The lawyer erupted out of Arcadia's depths from behind them, and Iria entwined her fingers with Quatre's, giving him a good, long stare. She was radiant with happiness. Quatre shook his head lightly to rid himself of the thought. 

"We're getting on the plane immediately," she told him bluntly, starting to walk again. "I know the airport is not a good place to start you out on people, but we want you home." Quatre followed her out the door and stared in fascination at the concrete. It was so bright-- he looked up, and halted. Iria tugged at his hand for a minute, then stopped. 

Quatre lifted his face to the sky. The sky; it was blue. Blue, and not white with speckled tiles. No rectangular luminescence, but puffy white clouds. His smile came slowly, and stretched stiff muscles. _I want to cry, and scream, or dance-- something_! He laughed softly, and swung his hand in Iria's. He looked at the trees-- even the trees looked amazing, and they were the same ones he'd stared at through the narrow, barred window of his room. 

"Uh oh," Iria giggled. "Rashid can't wait any longer he's coming up here to get you!" She laughed as Quatre's head swiveled around in time to be smashed against a broad, warm chest. He was lifted a disconcertingly high few inches from the cement walk way, and hugged to the point of squeaking. Rashid's booming voice rumbled in his chest before bursting out. 

"Master Quatre!" He cheered. Quatre's teeth positively vibrated with the man's echoing baritone, and finally his feet returned to the earth, but Rashid held him in place with two giant hands, each the size of Quatre's head or bigger. Quatre offered a tremulous smile, feeling drowned in Rashid's contentment. 

_But it's not real,_ he began chanting silently. _They're my emotions blown out of proportion.... Dr. Peerson said.... _ Rashid's sparkling brown eyes mirrored the sense of joy Quatre "detected"..... He sighed sadly, but masked it with a happy smile. _It feels so real...._

"You're still a little Master, but different," the man servant observed. He stepped back and eyed Quatre's taller, thinner and paler complexion. 

Quatre was now 5'6", at a distressingly low weight, and had skin the color of Arcadia's white washed walls. The clothes Iria had brought for the interview were nice and clean, but her calculation at his adolescent filling-out had been incorrect. 

A pale blue polo shirt hung loosely from neck to waist, and he had a belt notched to the last, keeping tan khakis from falling around his ankles. Iria had screamed at his appearance-- "You're half the size of when you came *in* here! And you're *built*!!" Quatre's creamy skin had flushed to a nice strawberry red at her wailing. When he'd begun to lose a lot of weight, the Doctor had offered him the chance to work out with weights, to keep him healthy and occupied. Quatre still lost weight, but he'd gained a finely toned abdomen, pectorals and biceps. Of course Iria had to poke them, sending Quatre into a nervous fit of giggles and hysteria. 

"Matty and Olivia will *scream* when they see how much you've grown," Iria sneered. She carefully extracted Quatre from Rashid's possessive grip, and led him carefully down the slight sloping walkway to the parking lot, where a long black limousine idled, door open with a patient looking driver beside it. Quatre grinned at Iria's penchant for luxury, and stepped into the dim, soft back seat. 

He squeezed to the farthest side and Iria followed him, Rashid crunching in last. The door shut, and a second later movement began. Quatre leaned back into the soft upholstery. It felt nothing like the rough detergent scented sheets of the asylum. And he could no longer sense the constant fear of the other inmates. 

_I was not mistaken in that_, he thought darkly. _I know I felt pain from them-- every day...._ Iria patted his arm as Quatre sighed, and leaned against her. Her words.... were so comforting.... 

"We'll be home in a few hours." Neither of them bothered to glance at the institution's sign as the car passed.

Arcadia: The Home Where Healing the Mind, Matters.   
  


  


* * *

**Teased?:** .... I wrote another fic about an asylum; Heero's mommy and all. But it wasn't nearly as interesting as this... ^^;;;;;; X_x;;  



	2. Part 2

Psychosomatic Agency  
Part 2  
By tan

* * *

**Warnings:** AU, shounen ai, 3x4, 1x2, 5xH, sap, etc. To be expected from me.  
**Disclaimer:** First time including one; bad me. I don't own Gundam Wing or any characters therein. I do sort of own the alternate universe plot. Sort of... That's it.  
**Summary:** Quatre Winner has just been released from Arcadia Asylum, for claiming to be able to feel other people's emotions.

* * *

**Dedication:** This is dedicated to those that emailed me and begged me to finish this. I thought that it was just a lost cause. Don't know where my inspiration came from, but I'm glad it returned. I hope that I didn't disappoint! ^_^ MWahahaha.  
  


  
  
**PART 2**  
  


  
  


_I can't breathe,_ Quatre realized. His panic increased tenfold. Iria's hand in his was loosening-- _she's moving away-- where's Rashid I can't breathe I can't I can't-- _

"Quatre?" Iria broke into his hysteria with her sharp call. Rashid was looking down at him, slightly concerned and protective. Quatre fought back a slight shiver from the pending anxiety attack. _It's okay. I'll just try out that "mind shield" Dr. Peerson explained...._ He took a deep breath.

The airport smelled of too many things to identify-- and he exhaled. Inhale-- exhale.... His heart calmed ever so slightly, and he continued, sitting obediently in the waiting chair while Iria went to see about the flight. Rashid sat stiffly beside him, surveying the busy area intently. Quatre smiled faintly and tucked his sunglasses into a pocket. _He's still so overprotective. I can't believe he waited so long for me to come back._ Rashid looked down at Quatre and smiled. 

"Are you thirsty, Master Quatre?" He inquired. Quatre followed a quick motion of Rashid's giant hand, and saw the mini fast food restaurants. Despite his six year long, rigorous health diet, his mouth began to water at the thought of soda. And greasy hamburgers. Rashid laughed softly at the little Master's expression, and dismissed himself. "Don't go anywhere," he ordered firmly. Quatre nodded, agreeing completely. He watched Rashid stomp up to the ordering line. _Mm, fries...._

Someone was hurt. Hurt badly-- pain lanced into Quatre's mind, searing his heart simultaneously. He gasped, clutching a fistful of polo shirt and seeing spots. One person was so afraid-- Quatre caught a hint of determination; bravery-- pain, and fear-- 

He searched the receiving area floor frantically, passing over Iria and Rashid-- and a hallway leading to the rest rooms. Before he could think Quatre was staggering forward, dodging barreling suitcases and bodies. He approached the corner hesitantly. _I'm not crazy,_ he thought weakly. _My imagination-- forgot my pills-- where are you? Why are you so afraid?_

No one was in the hall leading to the rest room. Quatre sprinted down it, staring at the cold and damp drinking fountains, and the ladies rest room. _No... not in there..._ He looked at the janitor's closet, and the men's rest room. FEAR was overwhelming. _This has to be real. I can't take it I have to make it stop--_ He shoved the door, bursting inside and barely managing to remain standing. 

"What the hell--" 

Quatre's eyes were wide as he took in the scene. It was definitely where the beacon of anguish was from. And it was awful-- three large men had a smaller figure cornered. It was backed up against the wall, with its shirt ripped and bright-- violet?-- eyes blazing. _It has long hair,_ Quatre realized, _ but it's not a girl-- it's a boy! _

Disgust filled him, followed quickly by some of his own fear as one of the men advanced toward him. Quatre swallowed hard as all three focused on him with leering eyes. The boy in the corner moved, and was slinking around by the stalls. 

_Run,_ he advised himself, and the boy. So he did. They were full of lust, and anger. Apprehension of getting caught. Quatre started to skid on the slick tile floor and he pulled out an extra burst of speed as the men stumbled as well. He almost screamed as a dark figure pulled up beside him, but when he looked he saw it was the boy, winking a scared and exotic eye at him.

They reached the main floor and fell into a quickly moving mob of people. A hand grabbed a hold of his shirt and pulled. He came face to face with the purple eyed boy. He had a busted lip, and was looking around wildly. His fear had diminished slightly, and an adrenaline induced need for flight had taken over. 

"Find a cop--" the boy ordered, standing on tip toe. Quatre nodded, and glanced around. He gasped. _No time for a cop,_ he mourned, grabbing the hand on his shirt and pulling. Both nearly fell flat on their faces from the force of Quatre's tug, but the boy got the idea soon enough. Their pursuers were nearing.

Quatre and the boy ran all the way across the floor, to where one of the planes was letting off. The flood of annoyed and hurried people pushed them back. Quatre tripped and fell-- arms folded around him however, and kept him from hitting the hard ground. His mind was freezing; feeling furious and fearful desire, and surprise coming from the warm, firm body he was being shoved against. 

"Aa--" the surprised cry was thumped out of him by a strong, grasping hand on the back of his shirt. It pulled, and Quatre was lifted swiftly. He scrambled to grab a hold of anything-- the body's shirt slid out of his grasp and he choked in fear. He focused frantically on a face, something tangible that would realize he was being taken-- 

Shocked green eyes met his. Quatre was able to make out a strange shock of brown hair above them, and a blank, handsome face. Then someone passed between them, and Quatre was lost. He yelled helplessly, stretching out his hand to the air. His fingers flailed helplessly. _I just wanted to go home--_ his heart crumbled as a flash of triumph erupted from his pursuer-- Quatre cried out again as the man's crushing arm wrapped around his neck. 

Green eyes filled him. They caught Quatre's gaze, and he surged in the man's arms, kicking and straining. Surprise got him out of the man's grasp, and suddenly he was enfolded into unfamiliar yet warm and strong arms. He held tightly to the green eyed man, and flinched when the hand on his back returned, pulling at his shirt and growling. 

"Let him go this ain't none of your business-" 

The poor body that Quatre had attached himself to turned slightly, and the hand on his back was denied access. 

Quatre trembled uncontrollably and burrowed as far as he could into the man's arms. He noticed a flash of brown, and violet eyes peeked around the protective arm. The boy those men had attacked was smiling up at him from a crouch in the floor. 

"Lost ya for a sec," he whispered, waving slightly. Quatre was shaking too badly too answer. His eyes grew wide, though, as he felt menace, and a dark shadow fell over the braided kid, who whirled too late and was dragged up by the collar of his black shirt. Quatre squeezed his protector tightly when the captured boy's fear rose. His heart was lurching painfully, and he felt so light headed--

The boy's braid swung wildly suddenly, and he was back on the floor. The man who'd attacked him was staggering, and Quatre gasped as a fist swiped at his face. It had moved in a fast, blue blur. The man was down, and Quatre felt him go out. The other two attackers were filled with hesitation, and they fled. Quatre noticed the blue figure now; it was another young man in a simple blue long sleeved shirt. He had dark hair, and was glaring out at the crowd. As the boy on the floor groaned, the blue clad one offered a helping hand. Quatre shuddered as electricity-- a spark of something-- passed between them. His knees buckled. 

_So much-- so many... people.... pills......_ His grip around his savior's waist fell, and he started sliding to the floor. Strong hands pulled him back up easily, but before Quatre could mumble out a thanks, his sun was gone, and was replaced by black and silence.   
  


  


* * *

**O_o;;** .... haven't a thing to say...  



	3. Part 3

Psychosomatic Agency  
Part 3  
By tan

* * *

**Warnings:** AU, shounen ai, 3x4, 1x2, 5xH, sap, etc. To be expected from me.  
**Disclaimer:** First time including one; bad me. I don't own Gundam Wing or any characters therein. I do sort of own the alternate universe plot. Sort of... That's it.  
**Summary:** Quatre Winner has just been released from Arcadia Asylum, for claiming to be able to feel other people's emotions.

* * *

**Dedication:** This is dedicated to those that emailed me and begged me to finish this. I thought that it was just a lost cause. Don't know where my inspiration came from, but I'm glad it returned. I hope that I didn't disappoint! ^_^ MWahahaha.  
  


  
  
**PART 3**  
  


  
  


"Quatre! Quatre-- where did he go, Rashid?!" 

"I don't know, Ms. Winner-- I was getting him a drink--" 

"QUATRE PLEASE!!" 

Quatre struggled against the darkness of sleep. He was resting against something warm... and moving... speaking too.... 

_Iria's afraid,_ he thought absently. _Rashid too--_ He pushed back the dark, and sat up quickly, pulling his eyes open-- and falling. He grunted in pain as his rear end hit the floor, but he stood immediately. A hand was on his arm-- holding him-- he pulled away and staggered back, falling into someone else who had to grip his shoulders to keep from tipping over. 

"Whoa, kid, calm down I don't want to kiss the floor again!" A cheerful, amused voice rang in his ear. Quatre turned quickly, blinking away his weariness. It was the braided boy. He was much less strained now. Someone was angry at him though....

Quatre glanced behind the boy, to the bucket shaped waiting seats that held a familiar blue figure. The one who'd saved the kid.... He was irritated, and met Quatre's gaze fearlessly. Quatre looked away, and turned to see who had tried to help him. He met with a broad, green clad chest. He looked up past the turtle neck to a concerned face. Green eyes. 

"Quatre!!!!" 

Quatre looked away sharply. Iria was moving further away. He took a shaky step towards the chaotic mess of travelers in airport limbo. _I don't want to go out there again.... _

"Hey, don't go anywhere until we know you're okay--" Quatre stopped almost eagerly. He'd thank them, maybe tell them his name, and go find Iria. _Home,_ he thought fervently as he turned to address his rescuers. _Six damn years I've waited and I will *not* get stuck in an airport for one more hour!!_

"I'm much better," he sighed, folding his arms over his chest. He smiled at the doubtful expression in violet eyes. "I don't pass out often, but when I do I usually recover quickly...." He rolled his eyes at the lame joke, knowing no one would get it-- 

Laughter assaulted him. The boy with the outrageous purple eyes was laughing and waving his hands in surrender. 

"Can't argue with that. Thanks for saving me, kid," his voice calmed from the laugh, and his smile was vibrantly sincere. He held out a hand. "Name's Duo Maxwell. I don't usually get assaulted by guys in the bathroom, but when I do I usually recover quickly-- after kicking their asses, of course." 

Quatre laughed helplessly and shook his hand. It was warm and firm. Duo positively pulsed with acceptance, and happiness, with an occasional pricked undertone of darkness... Quatre let that pass; the darker parts were the worst to feel.... 

He looked back to the green turtle neck with green eyes and spiky brown hair, and strong arms.... He blushed lightly, and addressed all of his audience, avoiding looking at anyone in particular. 

"Quatre Winner," he admitted. "I'm glad you're alright--" 

"QUAATRE!!" That was Rashid this time, bellowing out his name, half panicked. Quatre dropped his smile and moved backwards a bit. 

"I'm sorry, I have to go--" he stopped quickly though, and moved to stand in front of his hero. He blushed at the term, but hurried through his thanks. "Thank you for helping me-- what's your name-- I'm sorry I fainted on you." His blush was embarrassing. Suddenly he found a soft, cool hand in his, shaking. _Breathe, don't talk anymore, and go find Iria,_ he ordered himself. 

"Trowa Barton," his savior hummed, smiling a smile that looked foreign on his face, but beautiful. "It's all right--" Both Trowa and Quatre winced as Iria's voice rose to a deafening pitch. "I 'think' they're hysterical...." 

Quatre smiled in agreement. He didn't want to let go of Trowa's hand... It was so soft-- he stepped back though, turned and vanished, looking back several times before he ran into Rashid, who howled and picked him up eagerly. 

"I found it!" He boomed.   
  


  


* * *

**O_o;;**... I'm so odd.  



	4. Part 4

Psychosomatic Agency  
Part 4  
By tan

* * *

**Warnings:** AU, shounen ai, 3x4, 1x2, 5xH, sap, etc. To be expected from me.  
**Disclaimer:** First time including one; bad me. I don't own Gundam Wing or any characters therein. I do sort of own the alternate universe plot. Sort of... That's it.  
**Summary:** Quatre Winner has just been released from Arcadia Asylum, for claiming to be able to feel other people's emotions.

* * *

**Dedication:** This is dedicated to those that emailed me and begged me to finish this. I thought that it was just a lost cause. Don't know where my inspiration came from, but I'm glad it returned. I hope that I didn't disappoint! ^_^ MWahahaha.  
  


  
  
**PART 4**  
  


  
  


"You were chased?!" Iria screamed. Quatre had finished the narrative of his previous 20 minute disappearance. Rashid looked murderous, and he stared out into the crowd, willing those men to return and attack the master again-- 

Quatre nodded reluctantly. "But-- when I saw Duo hurt-- and he looked so afraid...." He shrugged helplessly. He wrapped his arms around his chest again. They were having doubts... about him.... _They'll send me back at the first sign of regression--_ The possibility was gruesome.

"I think I need one of my pills," he whispered. Iria wordlessly dug through her purse, and Quatre listened to her shaking the little orange plastic container.... Two large blue pills appeared before him, followed by a bottle of water in Iria's other hand. He swallowed them gratefully.... 

"Hey-- Quatre!" Someone was singing his name *loudly* across the terminal. Quatre grinned as he recognized the voice. One glance confirmed it; Duo was making his way over. The rips in his clothes had been covered by a simple black sweatshirt, and he was skipping-- followed by two more familiar faces with bland expressions. Quatre's heart flipped excitedly and he stood. 

Light suspicion drifted from Iria, and Quatre felt Rashid stand up beside him. Duo's eyes grew wide, and he slowed from a energetic skip to a shuffling walk. The blue eyed, scowling man pushed him forward with one finger to his back. Duo pin-wheeled a second then approached finally, giving Rashid's hulking form a wary glance. 

"Hi," Duo offered bluntly. No one answered for a moment. Quatre smiled slowly, and looked at Iria. 

"This, is Duo," he explained. Iria nodded, only slightly relieved. "And Trowa...." Quatre blinked innocently at the third unnamed figure. 

"Heero," Duo snickered. "His name is *Heero* Yuy, from Japan!" Another poke in his back sent him flying forward but still laughing. Quatre kept his smile easily. Iria moved forward to shake hands with Duo, Heero, then Trowa, introducing herself softly and thanking them for their timely rescue. Rashid stood aloofly, imposing and suddenly highly amusing to Duo, who waved to the large, potentially dangerous looking man. Quatre grew nervous as Duo pulsed with playfulness. _I'm beginning to think that playfulness in him is a hazardous thing....._

"What's up King Kong?" 

Iria paled. Quatre choked as Rashid's normally impervious tolerance wavered. _I've never been able to get to Rashid like that!!_ He giggled at Duo's wide smile. 

"Duo," Trowa suddenly sighed, his voice weary yet amused, as if he were long used to the boy's antics. Quatre paused. All three of them seemed surprisingly close.... _They're friends--_ His eyes widened slightly at the coincidence. _I can't believe how lucky we were, then...._

"Just kidding!" Duo shrugged and offered Rashid a thumbs-up. Rashid was confused, so he didn't say anything.

"Heero Yuy," Iria began suddenly. "Yuy--" her face broke out into a huge smile and she clasped her hands together. "Security Commissioner!!" Her laugh was not accompanied, but she continued it easily, giving them all time to ponder her outburst. 

"How did you know that?" Heero demanded. His voice was low, and cool. Certainly not the most inviting conversationalist.... Yet Duo swarmed him like the attention deprived bee that he was. 

Iria's smile was beatific; all knowing. _What could she be so pleased with herself over--_ Quatre wondered. 

"The new Security Commissioner of Winner Enterprises, and his friends *saved* the boy with the largest stock holding--" she wrapped a strangling arm around Quatre's neck, pulling him close to show him off. "-- the one that pays your salary!!" She giggled again. 

Heero blinked. Slowly, he dragged his piercing gaze over to Quatre, who bit his lip nervously. A strange emotion was drifting through the boy, or at least it was strange to Heero himself.... _He's surprised, why is surprise such an odd emotion in him--_

"You're Quatre, *Winner*....." He trailed off, eyes flickering as the name sank in...... Duo's jaw was swinging in the breeze, and even quiet Trowa was staring Quatre down. He fought to keep their reactions out-- _They know about the asylum-- somehow the information leaked out--_ He gripped Iria's arm and was fully ready to burrow himself behind it-- 

"You're a lot younger than I thought you'd be." 

That was Heero commenting. His voice was totally composed, and blunt. No other comment was provided, and besides the soft hum of planes and conversation flooding on around them, things were quiet. 

"You hold all that stock--" Duo snorted. He leaned closer to Iria and Quatre, wiggling his nose comically. "How old are you-- about 13?" 

It was Quatre's turn to drop his jaw. _13?!?!_ He was so close to whacking Duo upside the head. He narrowed his eyes and straightened, pulling away from Iria roughly. Duo backed up, an uneasy look in his eye initiated by the fuming blonde 'child' before him. 

"I am *not* 13," he snapped. "I'm 17 years old--" he folded his arms to keep the rest of his anger in check. _Indeed! Thinking I'm a baby-- I look my age-- _ He paused. _ Don't I?_

"Seventeen!" Duo whistled. He waved his hand in surrender. "No offense, Quat-- but you do *not* look 17, or 16, or 15, or 14--" 

"Okay," Quatre snapped gloomily. He sulked. _It's because of 6 years of abstaining from sunlight, and air; precious polluted air.... _

"Flight 378 to the Sanq, Australia, boarding at gate 1199. Flight 378, to Sanq, Australia, boarding at 1199." 

"Our flight," Iria and Duo chimed suddenly. They looked at each other, and Duo moved first. He pinched Iria's arm and crowed out an obnoxious "JINX!"   
  


  


* * *

**O_o**  



	5. Part 5

Psychosomatic Agency  
Part 5  
By tan

* * *

**Warnings:** AU, shounen ai, 3x4, 1x2, 5xH, sap, etc. To be expected from me.  
**Disclaimer:** First time including one; bad me. I don't own Gundam Wing or any characters therein. I do sort of own the alternate universe plot. Sort of... That's it.  
**Summary:** Quatre Winner has just been released from Arcadia Asylum, for claiming to be able to feel other people's emotions.

* * *

**Dedication:** This is dedicated to those that emailed me and begged me to finish this. I thought that it was just a lost cause. Don't know where my inspiration came from, but I'm glad it returned. I hope that I didn't disappoint! ^_^ MWahahaha.  
  


  
  
**PART 5**  
  


  
  


"So... no one knows?" Quatre asked softly, staring eagerly into Iria's eyes. _If no one knows--_

"I had the press thinking you were going away to boarding school in Siberia." She rolled her eyes. "They were so persistent, that father had to send a look alike *to* a boarding school in Siberia." She laughed at Quatre's round eyes, and ruffled his hair. "They gave up after a month, and they don't know you're returning." Her blue eyes shifted slightly, and Quatre watched in alarm as her smile dipped. There were slight lines around her mouth; 6 years of stress.... 

_Most of it is from her crazy little brother...._ He looked away, ashamed. _I can't let her know... that I'm not cured..... it would hurt her so much....._

"Mr. Winner?" A sweet, intruding voice irritated him out of his internal brooding. He looked up with a smile however. The stewardess was all teeth and bright blue eyes. A large cart full of drinks preceded her. "Would you like a refreshment, Mr. Winner?" 

"No thank you," he replied politely, smile still in place.... He released it as she left, sighing and thinking back to his previous dark, gloomy thoughts-- 

"Mr. Winner?" Quatre turned quickly. _Back again--?!_

He blinked. There was no one in the aisle.... Fear encased him-- _Am I hearing voices now too--_

Something bonked him on the head. Quatre opened his mouth in a silent protest and looked up. Two purple eyes blinked innocently at him atop a foolish smile. 

"Duo?" He blurted, unable to stop the automatic smile that creased his pale features. 

"Yeah. I snuck up here-- man, you rented the whole 1st class cabin!!" He whispered, disappearing from the top of the seat to duck around the other side. He seated himself in the wide, carpeted aisle and smiled at Quatre. "I couldn't handle Trowa, and Heero was going to kill me if I didn't get away-- so I came to visit you. Ya mind?" 

Quatre grinned. _ He sounds like a handful-- visiting me. I've never had visitors. _

"No, I don't mind at all." He stood up quickly and offered a hand to lever Duo up. "We can sit in the conference seats. But I have to warn you, I'm not much to visit..." _Which was why father never came..._

"Sure you are. You're interesting." Duo sat down heavily in one of the plush swiveling chairs that circled a small, simple table. It was where people like Quatre's father would have mid-flight business meetings-- or where Duo would prop up his worn black sneakers and stare at Quatre across the table. 

_Why is he curious? About *me* of all people?! _

"So, Kat, how'd you find me and the Neanderthals?" He offered a rueful smirk. "Did you hear me cussin' at them?" 

_Oh.... ohhh...._ Quatre laughed appropriately with Duo. He brushed back his shaggy golden bangs and shrugged. 

"I had to go to the bathroom." _Perfect lie. I'll give him one of those Innocent Without Doubt looks--_ Quatre widened his eyes a little and pouted out his lower lip, ever so slightly. _They always worked when I first got into Arcadia--_

Duo's expression was unexpected. He looked slightly shocked, and for some reason his eyes flickered down to stare at Quatre's lips. _I've unnerved him....._ Quatre stopped his Innocent look immediately. Duo swallowed hard and glared. 

"Don't do that-- you're trying to seduce me out of having my questions answered--" he waved his hand furiously in the air, dismissing Quatre's delinquency. 

"Seduce?!!?" Quatre choked. He shrank back into his chair at Duo's suggestive words. _To think I'd *know* how to seduce anyone-- _

Duo actually blushed at Quatre's scandalized shout, and shushed him. "Shh, man-- I was just joking with you--" Quatre's face pinked and he didn't reply. "Whatever you were trying to do, you lied." 

"I did not," Quatre snapped. "If you don't believe me you can-- you can go back to your seat--" he stopped. Duo's face remained unchanged. He was waiting. _How can he know that I'm lying.... I want to tell him. So much-- _ He glanced over at Iria, who looked at Quatre with one eyebrow raised, asking 'What are you two talking about of course I'll invite him over to dinner he seems like a nice young man--' 

_Good grief,_ Quatre almost laughed. _She's *motherly*, towards *both* of us-- this means he *is* coming to dinner.... _

"I didn't mean that...." He sighed, closing his eyes as he turned back to Duo. "But I can't tell you." He offered what he could in a smile, and placed his hands palms down onto the table, staring at immaculate fingernails..... 

"Okay. I'm just glad you did--" Quatre jumped as Duo pounded the table excitedly. "How about we invite Iria and Donkey Kong over, and go get Tro and Heero to play a game of poker?" 

Quatre blinked. "Poker?" 

  
  


  
  


  
  
"You've never played Poker?" Duo demanded for the hundredth time, glaring at Quatre halfheartedly. 

"No," Quatre admitted, staring at his cards in confusion. "I never learned..." He sighed, and showed his hand to Iria. She glanced up from her phone call, and shrugged. She'd never learned either. 

"Beginner's luck," Heero shrugged. "Pay attention to your own game." 

Duo raspberried, and leaned over suddenly, staring at Quatre's cards. He let out a strangled squeak and pointed. 

"Winning hand, every time!!" He shouted indignantly. Heero pulled him backward by the braid. The chair creaked warningly and Duo slapped ineffectively at Heero. Their hands entwined suddenly and Quatre smiled absently as Heero blushed. Both of them were embarrassed, and lowered their hands beyond the top of the table. Quatre doubted they let go. _A spark between them,_ he thought. _Such great friends...._ "How *did* you manage that?" 

Quatre smiled, and blushed. Trowa was speaking! Quatre spread out his successful hand of cards and they all watched as Duo started sobbing, cards erupting high into the air. Rashid was grinning broadly at his young Master. Heero just stared blankly, and began catching Duo's cards as they fell so he could put them back into a stack. 

"Attention all passengers, please take your seats and buckle your safety belts. We are approaching Sanq Airport, and our landing time is approximately twenty minutes. Thank you!" 

A thrill filled Quatre-- _Home_-- as well as several other ripples of emotion as Duo leapt up with a brilliant smile, pulling at Heero and motioning eagerly for Trowa to rise as well. Iria slammed the telephone down with a scowl and shuffled to her seat, mumbling about price ranges and sports cars.... Quatre waved happily to what he fervently considered friends and sat down, buckling his seat belt firmly. 

"They've set up a welcome home party for you," Iria sighed. "*Everyone* is there-- and I thought they'd never agree to be within 50 kilometers of each other-- but then again it's our baby." Her smile was gentle, and she still seemed slightly disbelieving at his presence, patting his soft hair, sighing discreetly. 

_I wouldn't go away again,_ he thought fervently. _Not even if..... if I got worse..._   
  


  


* * *

**O_o;**... so dramatic.... oi.  



	6. Part 6

Psychosomatic Agency  
Part 6  
By tan

* * *

**Warnings:** AU, shounen ai, 3x4, 1x2, 5xH, sap, etc. To be expected from me.  
**Disclaimer:** First time including one; bad me. I don't own Gundam Wing or any characters therein. I do sort of own the alternate universe plot. Sort of... That's it.  
**Summary:** Quatre Winner has just been released from Arcadia Asylum, for claiming to be able to feel other people's emotions.

* * *

**Dedication:** This is dedicated to those that emailed me and begged me to finish this. I thought that it was just a lost cause. Don't know where my inspiration came from, but I'm glad it returned. I hope that I didn't disappoint! ^_^ MWahahaha.  
  


  
  
**PART 6**  
  


  
  


Trowa, Duo and Heero were no where to be seen in the airport-- floods of bodies poured in from all sides, running shouting and very, very emotional. Quatre steeled himself against such an assault-- sunglasses donned and Rashid at his arm, he followed Iria's rapidly snapping heels to an awaiting limousine with a familiar driver who's smile rivaled his own. 

With an encompassing sweep the burly man had Quatre in his grasp. Such informality would have shocked any other upper class family, but Iria only laughed and poked at Quatre's purple face as she ducked into the car. Rashid gave the driver a stern look and got in as well. 

_Can't-- breathe--_ "Mr. Soloman--" he managed to choke out a plaintive gasp and "Mr. Solo" released him, apologizing then offering a plethora of welcome home's and missed you's. 

"We've all missed you so much, Master Quatre," Mr. Solo went on, folding his thick arms before him to stare happily down at the pale boy. He was referring to "We Maguanacs"; Winner Sr.'s close knit family of guards, servants and friends. Quatre had been inducted into their official ranks at the age of seven, after sacrificing his own infant life for a guard caught in a crossfire against terrorists .

Both events; saving the guard and being inducted into the specialized Maguanac Corp, were astonishing, for anyone.... "You'll have to go out on patrol with us, as soon as you're rested!" Mr. Solo declared. 

_Patrol,_ Quatre thought excitedly. He nodded in eager acceptance and was pulled into the soft leather seat by Iria's impatient, finely manicured hand. 

"Come on Mr. Popular," she scolded. "Matty just paged me asking where we are--" she paused as something began beeping, loudly, on her person. She shifted slightly to pull up the tiny gray beeper from her belt loop. Gazing ruefully at the numbers, she began cursing delicately.

"*Olivia* just paged me, asking where we are." She punched angrily at the squishy control buttons, effectively muting the communications device, and she replaced it calmly. Quatre giggled. He still couldn't get over how rapidly her moods changed. Like Father.... 

The drive from Sanq Airport north to outer Sanq was long, and uneventful. Quatre watched the scenery eagerly. Remembering some, and relishing all. Just the grass amazed him, and the soft heat of the sun. _I'll have to spend all my time outdoors now,_ he swore. At his request Iria lowered the window, and Quatre stuck his head out like the brand new puppy he felt like. A sense of sorrow drifted from Iria. She felt guilty.... 

"It's not your fault," he told the wind. "Father put me there-- I was sick." _Was..._ His mind scoffed. He ignored it. 

Approach of the manor was swift and glittering; white marble sparkling fantastically in the setting sun. Quatre halted on the first few steps to the front door, and turned. He squinted at the sun even behind his shades. It was orange. One color he'd experienced too little in Arcadia. Blue, purple, red and pink.... 

"Quatre," Iria sang to him softly, reluctant to break the spell her brother was obviously under. 

"I'll be in a few minutes, Iria," he whispered. Rashid patted his arm heartily and went on. The door shut quietly. The sun dropped. The sky above it was cold without its presence. Empty before the stars. His breath caught as with one final bounce the world turned dark. He removed the sunglasses and wiped at his eyes. 

_If they see me crying they'll start too,_ he reasoned, grinning. _I can't handle 29 sobbing women._ He turned and hesitated outside the door. He could feel..... yes he could sense them-- all 29 and all so anxious, impatient, awkward and a few were sad. Most were happy. _I wish I could tell them..........._

  
  


  
  


  
  
  
_I'm falling, Quatre realized. He was terrified of so many hands, grasping at him, pulling him back into the darkness and away from the sun-- he stretched out his fingers, straining for it as he descended. They can't pull me down-- not again-- he reached frantically for green eyes--_  
Quatre woke abruptly. Daylight was peaking in through a slit in his translucent blue curtains. He was glad they'd moved his room to face the sun. _Dr. Peerson never let me see the sun.... Like he knew it would make me feel....._

He crawled out of the giant king sized bed, squishing his toes into carpet that matched the curtains. Tanya had given him a new set of pajamas, covered in little brown camels, for the welcome home party. He had 28 other gifts placed randomly around the room, and 400 more to be delivered, directly from each Maguanac on the manor grounds. 

Digging around in one gift bag he found a pair of blue jeans-- they were too big, but had come with a belt. He yanked a plain, expensive white tee shirt over his head and picked up the hair brush Neuve had given him; 'Quatre Babe' had been embossed in gold lettering. He rolled his eyes and swiped it through his hair. It fluffed up embarrassingly and framed his narrow face for a moment. Something about the shape of his face was familiar; a hereditary bone structure-- He turned from the vanity mirror quickly. He wanted to go on patrol. 

Rashid nodded at him from the servant's kitchen. He was nursing a steaming cup of coffee-- coffee that had previously never enticed Quatre, but now was making him drool. 

"Eat, Master Quatre," he ordered. A slight hint of sleepiness was evident in the rough rumble of his voice. "Section seven and I will visit the training room, and meet you by the East Quadrant 3 perimeter--" 

"Can I train too?" Quatre interjected. His voice echoed in the cavernous upper cabinets. Finding a small bag of soft, bakery fresh bagels (blueberry) he pulled back, watching Rashid imploringly. 

Rashid shrugged despite his surprise. "What ever you'd like, Master Quatre." Quatre bit back a snicker as Rashid yawned and sipped at his mug slowly. _He's probably too tired to realize what I said._

But Rashid welcomed Quatre after he'd finished the bagel slathered with blueberry flavored cream cheese and a cup of strong Earl Gray tea. He followed the ex-soldier eagerly to the elevator which ferried them to the lowest level of the Winner compound, where security was stationed, and where most of the Maguanacs hung out. Quatre skidded to a halt as they began roaring, pointing and shouting. Smiles littered the concrete and many of the men came up to slap him heartily. 

_They're unconditional,_ Quatre thought dazedly. _Even knowing I've been in an asylum for six years.... They're here for me...._

"Shut up!" Rashid barked in Arabic. "We'll ride in two hours-- warm up until then!!" He glared all into submission, sniffing at those who loitered around to ruffle Quatre's hair and shake hands. Quatre was smiling dumbly, until Rashid cleared his throat. Quatre looked up at him, grin plastered to his face. 

"We ride in two hours, Maguanac!" Rashid muttered gruffly. Quatre blushed and darted away, aiming for one rowdy sounding work out room. 

They didn't laugh at him when he came in, and barely noticed as he approached the stretching mat. After a few routine legs stretches he rolled his shoulders, pulled one lean arm across his chest, followed by the other. Feeling pleasantly warm and loose Quatre approached one of the benches with barbells[1]. Jase, one of the younger guards, watched him sit and lie back. Quatre could feel the young man's faint surprise, and wariness. 

"Master Quatre," he began gently. "Would you like me to take off a few weights--" 

Quatre glanced at the ends of the bar. 180. He smiled and shook his head. A few deep breaths later he lifted the bar. Jason had rushed to his side, hands ready to grasp the weights should they come crashing down onto the little master's face. 

Quatre moved his arms methodically. His muscles contracted easily. Thirty reps. Fifty. Beads of sweat began to form, and dripped annoyingly down. Quatre replaced the bars and sat up. It was so quiet..... He was confused-- _Did they leave--_

He turned around to face the rest of the weight room. Thirty pairs of wide, dark eyes were on him. Jase was filled with approval, and steadily it grew to include the entire 90 cubic feet. 

"Well done, Master Quatre," Theo declared solemnly from over by the leg machine. Several other soft murmurs of accord followed. Quatre thanked them with as much sobriety, and looked to the rack of miscellaneous weights. 

"Add about-- twenty, please," he ordered Jase, who was quick to comply, and hovered worriedly over Quatre. 

_I don't have to do this,_ he mused. _I don't have to stall going to patrol, unlike going back to a tiny cell with rough sheets and tiles to count........_ The memory was disturbing. He pushed harder, letting an angry grunt pass his lips. His arms tired eventually, and he sat up, shaking them out. Jase offered a bottle of water and Quatre sipped gratefully. He was feeling.... Well; depressed. The workout *had* reminded him of his room at Arcadia to go back t, should he ever have a relapse.... 

But a twinkle of rising orange distracted him-- a slit of a window was situated high on the room's wall. Just a thin pane of glass kept the grass beyond out, and the sun. No bars. 

"Would you like to run with me, Master Quatre?" A chirp from Jase pulled Quatre's gaze down from the wall, and up from his pit of initial despair. Quatre nodded. 

  
  


  
  
Quatre hurt. His legs were aching from riding a cheerful blonde Palamino all day, investigating the extensive grassy park of the Winner estate, diving behind trees as Sandrock bolted playfully while moaning to Rashid about twigs in his teeth. 

He was dirty, sweaty and there *were* twigs all over him. Iria and the girls were frantic. He received his first good scolding upon arrival at the back servant's door where they knew he'd try to sneak in as the stars appeared. Rashid had wisely gone to the Maguanac's housing, 'knowing' Quatre would be all right on his own, and also 'knowing' Iria would be 'waiting up' for him. 

"... and we can't have you doing that all the time with out leaving a note we all thought you'd run away or you'd had a relap--" She stopped. Quatre lowered his face and said nothing. There was enough guilt radiating from her to forgive, but not to forget..... 

_The Maguanacs trust me...._ "I'm sorry," he offered to Iria. _I'm sorry that you don't._ "I just wanted to be outside today." 

"Of course," Iria replied rapidly. She hugged Quatre fiercely, ignoring the dirt and sweat that smeared onto her crisp beige business suit. "Of *course*....." She left with orders for him to clean up and go to bed. 

He dreamed of green eyes, and mistrust..........   
  


  


* * *

**O_o;**[1] Benches? Barbell chairs? I have no idea what they're called. I don't work out very often.... Okay, not at all @_@. This is an odd chapter. Oo, Quatre's buff! Get's to show it off!! LOL! XD  



	7. Part 7

Psychosomatic Agency  
Part 7  
By tan

* * *

**Warnings:** AU, shounen ai, 3x4, 1x2, 5xH, sap, etc. To be expected from me.  
**Disclaimer:** First time including one; bad me. I don't own Gundam Wing or any characters therein. I do sort of own the alternate universe plot. Sort of... That's it.  
**Summary:** Quatre Winner has just been released from Arcadia Asylum, for claiming to be able to feel other people's emotions.

* * *

**Dedication:** This is dedicated to those that emailed me and begged me to finish this. I thought that it was just a lost cause. Don't know where my inspiration came from, but I'm glad it returned. I hope that I didn't disappoint! ^_^ MWahahaha.  
  


  
  
**PART 7**  
  


  
  


"They *all* work at the Central building?!" Quatre repeated Iria's words excitedly. He'd inquired at about the six this morning, and by lunch Iria had called back inviting him for a visit. 

"Yeah; I actually ran into Heero today." She laughed softly. "He' caught one terrorist, and a Kushrenada spy by eight a.m. today. Definitely a good hire on father's part..." 

Quatre nodded. Heero was total control. Quatre smiled at the memory of Duo, however, breaking through. Heero would actually got exasperated with Duo on the plane, and they had returned to the second class cabin holding hands. _I wonder if Trowa has anyone..._

"Quatre?" 

"Uh-- what? What??" Quatre offered a nervous laugh and began twirling the telephone cord around his fingers. 

"Nooothing.... I'll have one of the cars pick you up in an hour. See ya babe." 

Quatre hung up quickly. An hour-- he bolted for the stairs taking them two at a time-- _Why am I so nervous it's just Central--_ And green eyes. 

  
  


  
  


  
  


Quatre approached the desk slowly. He was nervous about visiting, yet excited-- he'd spent a lot of his childhood (before Arcadia) at the Central Office, trailing his father or Iria, and generally terrorizing with General Peacecraft's daughter, Relena. 

Relena was Quatre's target at the moment. She'd grown a lot over the years; much more blonde, and her voice was sharp as she cursed at the telephone. 

"I know your regulations; I put them on your department and now I'm going to change them because it goes along with Mr. Winner's orders-- you will not speak to Mr. Winner because the matter can be settled by me you chauvinist pig! Initiate the background check or I'm coming down there to do it myself!!!" 

Relena breathed finally, and slammed the receiver into its cradle at the corner of her desk. She growled angrily at it, and twisted in her chair. Quatre could detect her throbbing irritation, and exasperation. But with one smooth pat of her hair, she was the picture perfect board member that the plaque on her door suggested. Relena's vexation faded, and she glanced up. 

Quatre couldn't suppress the tiny smile that bled onto his lips as Relena discovered him. Her crystal blue eyes grew very wide; almost as wide as the "O" her mouth had formed. 

"Quatre." Relena erupted from her swiveling chair and skirted the sharp edges of her desk with ease. Soon enough she was wrapping Quatre in her long arms, trying to suppress an uncharacteristic bout of surprise. _She's never surprised-- I wonder if father ever told her..._

"I'm so glad you're back! Siberia is so *lonely*!" Quatre tightened his arms around Relena. 'Lonely' meant that she knew where he'd been, and why.

_She doesn't care,_ he realized. _She knows I'm still Quatre. I was always me, however crazy--_ Quatre exploded with a sigh that sounded suspiciously like a muffled sob. "It was very lonely," he murmured into the collar of her bright pink suit. _Bright pink?_

His soft chuckle did not go undetected, though try as he might to still his shaking shoulders and the rebellious giggles that trickled out. Relena pulled away to arm's length, and stared at him warily. 

"What?" 

Quatre snorted softly as he tried to stop his laughter. But the pink was just so bright-- so Relena. In a civil attempt to compose himself, Quatre replied. His civility was marred however, by the raucous laughter that choked him up for several minutes after.

"Pink!?" 

  
  


  


* * *

**O_o;** XD  



	8. Part 8

Psychosomatic Agency  
Part 8  
By tan

* * *

**Warnings:** AU, shounen ai, 3x4, 1x2, 5xH, sap, etc. To be expected from me.  
**Disclaimer:** First time including one; bad me. I don't own Gundam Wing or any characters therein. I do sort of own the alternate universe plot. Sort of... That's it.  
**Summary:** Quatre Winner has just been released from Arcadia Asylum, for claiming to be able to feel other people's emotions.

* * *

**Dedication:** This is dedicated to those that emailed me and begged me to finish this. I thought that it was just a lost cause. Don't know where my inspiration came from, but I'm glad it returned. I hope that I didn't disappoint! ^_^ MWahahaha.  
  


  
  
**PART 8**  
  


  
  


He didn't get to visit Relena for as long as he would have liked-- he had so much to ask her; was she seeing anyone, how had she gotten a board position at 18, why was she still wearing pink dresses-- Because Iria found him not an hour after his arrival, and it was a marathon from then. 

Two board meetings; both with the upper trustees that doted on him, the largest owner of stock, therefore the most influential, and their source of revenue. They were a bunch of anxious old men, paranoid of a hostile take over because their chief was barely a babe. 

_That's highly unlikely,_ Quatre mused as he listened to Iria snap at one of the board members. Her expression was finely chiseled, focused on her no-nonsense lecture about marketing and distribution. In Quatre's place, Iria held the company in an iron grip, and pulled the strings like a master puppeteer. Along with Relena, and a few on-again off-again sisters for support, the Winner corporation was booming. Quatre was background material; simply income. 

_If I hadn't just come home, she'd be shouting at me too,_ Quatre thought as his gaze strayed once more to the window. He wasn't tuning his sister out on purpose; it was just the call of the sun as it filtered in through the blinds. And he had yet to see Duo or Heero... or Trowa... 

Yes, he'd been thinking about Trowa all day. That smile; rare and beautiful. And those green eyes... They would forever haunt his dreams. _It's hard to feel his emotions; it's like he's guarded--_

Quatre closed his eyes swiftly, shutting out the sunlight and that thought.  
_ "I know you're angry, Dr. Peerson--"  
"Angry? Quatre; you mustn't believe that you can feel my emotions. It's impossible. We've gone over this."   
".... but... they seem so real..."   
"They're not. If you insist on thinking this way, Quatre, I'm afraid we'll have to place you in a more secure department. You're potentially a danger to yourself, as well as to other people."   
"... I'm not going to try it again, Doctor... it was just because my father was so angry with me, even as he..."   
"You *thought* that he was angry with you, Quatre. You didn't feel his emotions. You can't feel others' emotions. You can't."   
"I... can't..."   
"You only think you do, Quatre. The mind is a very powerful tool. It can be very influential on the body, which is why you tried to hurt yourself as your father was dying. You were afraid of him leaving you."   
"Of course..."   
"Now repeat after me, Quatre. 'I cannot feel others' emotions.'"   
"I... cannot feel others' emotions."   
_  
_I can *not* feel others' emotions. I just think I do--_ His mantra did little to help. He could still feel disgruntled board members, and an irate Iria-- _... it never would go away when I begged it to..._

"Quatre." 

He opened his eyes; Iria was fuming. Not particularly at him, but at the others of the board who were listening about as well as he was, or not at all. He blushed. Iria was not impressed. She glared around the room. 

"If you gentlemen are too tired to continue, I suppose we'll have to resume at a later time. How about... seven? Right around dinner, I believe. A perfect time," Iria paused to insert a none too disappointed gasp. "Although-- you all may miss the banquet. I know my sisters hired Chef Hilde Schrieber. She makes a mean prime rib platter--" 

"Please continue, Miss Winner," one of the more portly members of the board interrupted. His jowls moved crisply around his words, and Quatre suspected that even though Iria wasn't as much of an empath as himself, she could tell when they were convinced. And they were. Nothing got between a member of the upper trustees and prime rib. 

  
  


  


* * *

**O_o;** XD  



	9. Part 9

Psychosomatic Agency  
Part 9  
By tan

* * *

**Warnings:** AU, shounen ai, 3x4, 1x2, 5xH, sap, bit of cussin', etc. To be expected from me.  
**Disclaimer:** First time including one; bad me. I don't own Gundam Wing or any characters therein. I do sort of own the alternate universe plot. Sort of... That's it.  
  
  


  
  
**PART 9**  
  


  
  


It was as he was shuffling from the conference room behind Iria, who was rattling off a list of assignments for her poor harried secretary, that Quatre felt a familiar twinge. An explosively radiant personality, one that he'd been able to feel from a distance, and help. 

He looked up eagerly, looking past the milling suits and into office doors. A flash of purple caught his eye; and it wasn't a pair of eyes. Quatre blinked owlishly. It was... a tie. A garish, violently purple tie, loosened from its knot at the base of someone's neck. The state of that someone's attire was appalling; buttons undone at the collar, jacket slung over his shoulder, and a pen protruding from his mouth. 

Duo was sitting comfortably on the surface of a desk, swinging his legs and chewing his ball-point pen mercilessly. Quatre stopped at the doorway. He glanced at the nameplate on the door. 'Heero Yuy: Security Commissioner'. Beneath it was 'Duo Maxwell: Assistant Commissioner'. Quatre grinned broadly. 

"So we're going to Quatre's banquet, right? I heard Hilde's there, and I wanna see if Quatre wants to hang out this weekend." 

Quatre stepped into the office quietly. Heero immediately looked up from his concentrated slouch. He nodded, and elbowed Duo's thigh. This was obviously the wrong thing to do, and Heero obviously knew this, because a satisfied smirk creased his face as Duo yowled, and started cursing. 

"HEEro! That hurt! I'm tellin' Trowa that you're abusive *as well as* unsociable!!" Duo raised his fist and waved it threateningly. Beneath his outrage swam amusement, and a sinister hint that did not bode well for Heero later. Quatre wisely spoke up before the vindictive part of Duo could emerge fully. 

"Good afternoon," he greeted them softly. Duo's head snapped around at Quatre's voice, and the pen flew from his mouth to clatter onto the floor and skid beneath a filing cabinet. Duo didn't give it a second glance; after all, Heero had a cylinder full of similar ball-point pens on his desk. Instead, Duo bounced up and stretched out his arms happily. 

"Quatre! Long time no see! Almost two days! Did you miss me? Of course you did." Duo waved his hand dismissively, and grabbed Quatre's head in an arm lock. "Heero and I were just wondering what kind of menu Hilde's dreamed up for your banquet..." Duo paused to make rude slobbering sounds and to lick his lips. 

"Do you know Mrs. Hilde?" Quatre asked in surprise. He felt a little uncomfortable in Duo's grasp, but not too. It was nice to be hugged by a friend. Duo was neutral; he probably hugged perfect strangers... _He's secure in physical contact,_ Quatre theorized. _It is a sure method of communication._ Duo tightened his grip on Quatre's neck, purposely squeezing until Quatre squeaked. 

_Communication that he likes to torture,_ Quatre added as Duo ruffled Quatre's hair into a mangled mess of flaxen locks. 

"Sure! Her and I go way back. When she was first starting out in the restaurant business, I was her first customer, and the only one that could eat 25 of her specialty steak trays!" Duo puffed up proudly, releasing the discolored blonde. Duo straightened his tie, to no avail, and blinked out of his self absorbed reverie. 

"Mrs. Hilde, huh?" Duo grinned toothily. "Sounds like she settled down finally. Who's the lucky guy that gets a master chef for a wife?" 

Quatre rubbed his neck and inched over to the opposite side of one of the chairs, hopefully out of reach in case of another fond attack. "Her husband's name is Wufei. He's on the secondary board here--" Quatre paused. Duo's expression-- formed in tandem with the shock disbelief and horror? that radiated from him-- was enough to halt the rest of Quatre's report. 

"Wufei? Chang, Wufei?!" Duo slapped his forehead suddenly, and his eyes crossed. "You've got to be kidding! I swear; last time I saw those two they were at each others' throats!! Wow!" 

Quatre smiled a little. "I couldn't imagine Ms. Hilde and Wufei fighting. They love each other very much--" He stopped himself, biting off the words more than a little obviously. Duo and Heero's gaze flickered to his sudden silence. Quatre tried a tentative smile. 

"*There* you are you sneak-- did I say you could take a break? Do we Winners ever take breaks?! I think not! Hello Heero, Duo!" Iria's firm hand and rapid fire greeting saved Quatre from his awkward slip. Neither Hilde nor Wufei would ever let on that they had any emotions besides irritation and indignation. To say confidently, emphatically, that they were in love, had drawn two sets of raised eyebrows from Duo and Heero. And quietly surfacing curiosity... 

"Hey, Iria. Trowa should be back soon with lunch," Duo trilled happily. "An extra large pepperoni pizza for me, and some other stuff for you two." 

"Lunch?" Quatre repeated, giving Iria a meaningful look. "I thought Winners never take breaks?" 

Iria didn't honor her brother with a reply. She glanced around the small office, then looked up with a smile. "We could eat in here? The cafeteria is always packed around this time." She glanced at Quatre. Her face was benevolent, but Quatre frowned. 

_I don't know what she's thinking,_ he fumed. _I've been fine all day in a building full of people-- she can't still be upset about the airport--_

"Iria." Quatre kept his voice as even as he could. It took a lot to make him angry, but he didn't handle himself well when he was . "I need to go over a few things with you, from the conference." Iria noticed Quatre's odd pitch. She nodded, and excused them both from Duo and Heero. Quatre didn't say anything. 

_She's my sister, damn it. She's not even trying to understand-- she's being just like father!!_ As he followed Iria out of Duo and Heero's office, and stormed down the hall to Iria's, Quatre heard Duo whistle. 

"... did you see Quatre's face? Damn... I'd hate to be Iria right now..." 

  
  


  


* * *

**O_o;** XD What have I got so far... Heh. x_x;;;  



	10. Part 10

Psychosomatic Agency  
Part 10  
By tan

* * *

**Warnings:** AU, shounen ai, 3x4, 1x2, 5xH, eventual 4+6, and 6x13... o____o; Did I get it all? Sap, an attempt at drama, poor to no plot, attempted humor, blah blah blah.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Gundam Wing or any characters therein.   
**Summary:** Quatre Winner returns home from Arcadia Asylum.  
  
**Note:** 8/7/02: o_O;; Been a while... XD LOL. I've written some, but haven't posted, and I've updated the chapters a bit, but I'm too lazy to upload them here just yet. If interested, you can access them at http://nekobo.com/~tantrys. ^____^v Enjoi. 

* * *

  
  


  
  
**PART 10**  
  


  
  


"I'm not crazy, Iria." 

"I know that," his sister responded. She rushed Quatre's face and patted his hair, blatantly placating now that they were alone. Quatre wondered if steam could spout from his ears. 

"You don't act like it," he snapped, pulling away from the normally warm embrace of his sister. Iria's arms just felt cruel, now. Sheltering and nervous. "You think I'm going to break any second-- I'm not a child!" 

"Quatre, please." Iria cooed at him, and motioned for him to sit down, calm down, and she even reached for his pill bottle in her purse. 

"I don't need them Iria!" Quatre burst suddenly. He'd reached the end of something, perhaps his patience, perhaps his sanity ironically. Either had worn thin during his treatment. 

_ I sat in a cold white cell for years, pretending I didn't feel it when other patients were hurt and afraid, or lonely, cold, and dying... _

"They don't do anything to me," he added in a hiss. Quatre lashed out to rip the bottle from Iria's stunned grip. Soon, blue pills were flying across the room and scattering across the office floor.

"Nothing short of dying could ever get rid of all the crap I feel in my heart Iria." He thumped his chest once, making sure his sister was focused on his words, his meaning. 

"You're embarrassed," he accused. Iria shook her head quickly, almost guiltily. _ I thought you knew you couldn't lie to me, _ Quatre thought sadly. _We used to joke about it before I left. _

"You're afraid that I'll make a scene by freaking out, and that I'll destroy your beautiful illusion of boarding school. Don't you dare cry," Quatre ordered shrilly, even though tears of his own were squeezing out through his narrowed eyelids. "Don't cry because you think that I'm insane. I'm not, Iria." 

Iria sniffled from behind her desk-- she'd retreated there as her baby brother exploded, without raising his voice, without her saying a single word about how she felt... and yet he knew... 

"I wish I were crazy," Quatre admitted breathlessly. He was shaking, his face was wet, and he had to go to the bathroom. "Then I'd belong in a place like Arcadia. I wouldn't even mind the screams, the pills, or Dr. Peerson telling me everyday to stop being what I *am*." 

_She's terrified._ Iria was backed against the window, holding both fists to her chest. Her tears were flowing unchecked, smearing mascara and dribbling onto her lovely office jacket. He went on. 

"I think I'd like your trust a lot better than your pity." Quatre sighed heavily, and wished he didn't have to... but... "I'm going home." 

"Quatre," Iria attempted as he turned swiftly on his heel and stormed off. Her voice wavered too much to respond. _She needs to think all of through-- all day if necessary. Maybe she'll see where father was coming from, and maybe that will scare her straight. _

The halls had emptied a little, for which Quatre was immensely grateful because his face was probably blotchy and was definitely damp. Quatre sniffed loudly, and rubbed his face with his sleeve-- something Iria would never let him do. It had something to do with good clothes and mucus... 

*THUMP* 

Quatre grunted at the sudden impact of his nose and someone's chest. It was actually painful enough to bring on a new wave of tears to his squinted eyes. 

"Ow," he snuffled intelligently, trying to focus on the object of his collision. The smell of fried foods and pizza wafted over him, and Quatre had time enough to drool over that before registering exactly what, or *whom* he'd run into. 

"Quatre," a warm, pleasantly surprised voice greeted him. Quatre blinked around the well of tears, then blushed. 

"Trowa." _Damn. Say something else-- something smart, or flirtatious-- _ "Hello." _That was stupid, and... well, just stupid._

But Trowa smiled, beautifully, and Quatre fawned silently. _I can barely tell what he's feeling-- at least he's not angry. That's always good.. but wait; curiosity...? Confusion. _

"Are you alright?" 

A small light bulb was illuminated in Quatre's brain. He was able to recall the blowup with Iria and its effects quite vividly. _I'm crying. In front of Trowa._

He bolted, skirting Trowa and pizza boxes, dodging an already harried secretary and pelting full force down the hall. He spotted a bathroom facility sign and threw himself through the swinging doors. Fortunately, there was no one being molested in front of the urinals. 

Alone and... well, alone, Quatre permitted his lower lip a half second to tremble. Time up, he straightened his shoulders and marched up to the sink, intent on wiping away the remnants of his weakness. 

His face wasn't too red, just a few spots where he'd rubbed the tears away. No snot or anything dribbling down his face, although his lip wouldn't stop quivering. 

"Grow some balls," he accused his reflection. It frowned most sarcastically, as if to say 'I've already got some thank you'. "Damn sarcastic mirror..." He muttered, thumping the faucet knob to turn it on. 

A nice slap of freezing water was refreshing, albeit shocking, and Quatre straightened with a slight smile on his face. _ I'm out of Arcadia, I've got a job and my family... and I've been able to control myself rather well, considering. _

"So, I'm okay." Saying that aloud helped. Until he saw another reflection in the mirror and had to bite his lip to stop from screaming-- then his good mood vanished in favor of a moment for utter shock. Quatre turned around very slowly, pivoting on one foot and peeling back his lips to ensure a pleasant enough salutation. 

"Since you were crying as you ran from me, I don't think you're okay." Trowa addressed Quatre frankly, and even offered a courteous smile of his own. 

"I wasn't crying," Quatre blurted desperately. _I'm such a wonderful liar, _ Quatre wanted to add. "I... had an allergic reaction to Iria's perfume." 

"..." Quatre fidgeted. Trowa sure was quiet. _I could have sworn he'd fall for that._ His brain snorted. 

"I don't think it's your habit to lie," Trowa began gently. Quatre bit his lip as a hint of hurt, of insult, filled Trowa's words and presence. In the manner of one studying a specimen under a microscope, Trowa leaned forward, forcing Quatre to edge backward and swallow loudly. He blushed as one of Trowa's eyebrows rose.

"You're too nervous-- your hands are clenched, you're chewing on your lip, and you have yet to look me in the eye." 

_I feel like a criminal! _ Quatre wailed silently. He stopped chewing on his lip immediately, folded his arms, and looked straight into Trowa's eyes. Quatre blinked. 

Trowa was amused; a smile threatened to break the thin set of his lips, and Quatre could detect a hint of carefully controlled laughter. 

"Iria upset me," Quatre muttered, keeping his arms folded stubbornly. "She thinks I'm still a child." _A perpetual infant,_ he thought tiredly. He turned his gaze to the restroom tile. _Forever inferior, weak, and insane. _ Poor Iria didn't realize how her own emotions effected her judgment. _Hardly anyone can decipher their darkest, deepest prejudices, so I can't really blame her._

"Forgive me for saying this, but you still look like a child." While Trowa's tone was far from insulting, his words made Quatre raise his head and frown, utterly confused. 

"I look 17--" Quatre paused suddenly. He turned around and backed up a few paces, noting almost immediately that the mirror's reflection did not support his admonition. 

His pale hair was tousled and stuck up slightly in the front, like a small playful boy's. His face was very smooth and clear, with full pouting lips. He'd lost the baby fat in his cheeks ages ago, and had even grown several inches in the past few years. 

"It's the eyes," Trowa observed, and Quatre transferred his gaze accordingly to the taller man in the mirror. A unique contrast. There was neither a blemish nor a hair on Trowa's face, and his flip style hair was anything but aged. It was instead the expression on Trowa's face, and the wise glitter in his hazel eyes that suggested a few extra years. 

"I haven't changed since I left." Quatre winced. _Still young, still crazy. I yelled at Iria for no reason then--_

"It's not a bad thing to look young," Trowa offered kindly. "Girls will flock." He laughed at Quatre's flushed cheeks and scowl. 

"I'm not interested in girls!" He snapped lightly. His face grew rather red at the implications of that statement. And-- to Quatre's surprise and perhaps his intrigue-- one of Trowa's eyes widened slightly, and *he* blushed. 

_He's flustered! I've turned the tables and I didn't even mean to! _ Quatre was delighted. Now Trowa had something to stew about...

Still cool, Quatre neatly completed a one hundred eighty degree turn, and beamed at Trowa. He was definitely unnerved; shifting his weight from one foot to the other, and furrowing gracefully arched brows. Trowa angled his head to stare straight down at Quatre, creating a cradled atmosphere-- if he reached out his arms they'd practically be hugging-- 

"Duo-- mentioned you tried to seduce him," Trowa murmured softly, accusing just enough to make Quatre blush and lose that dim thread of confidence. Quatre decided absently that Duo liked to talk too much. 

"I was trying to look innocent," Quatre admitted. "To get out of another misunderstanding." Quatre grinned quickly before he licked his lower lip and pressed it forward, making it quiver ever so slightly. Innocent as can be. He blinked slowly, trying not to smirk at how ridiculous-- 

A sharp twist of emotion broke through Quatre's demonstration. It was powerful and raw, frightening its bearer enough to inhale sharply and turn away. Trowa placed his hand to his lips and positively glared at the wall. 

"What--" Quatre was speechless. The intensity of that feeling-- it had shocked Trowa deeply, and had almost shamed him-- Trowa moved further away as Quatre touched his arm. "What's wrong? Trowa?" 

"What kind of look was that? *Innocent??*" Trowa huffed in disbelief as he glanced at Quatre. 

"Well yeah," Quatre replied. He was nearly insulted. _If it wasn't funny all he had to do was say so. Sheesh._ "I used to use it all the time on the nurses-- um-- the school nurse, I mean, and the teachers--" 

_More like I used it on the shrinks and attendants, especially the ones that held me down when I'd have fits-- _ He wasn't about to offer that tidbit of information, however. _I seem to have scared Trowa enough as it is. I don't need him knowing I'm nuts. _

"On your teachers-- huh." Trowa shook his head firmly, and was suddenly chuckling. One of his hands found Quatre's shoulder and squeezed it. "Do many susceptible hearts a favor, Quatre, and don't look at them like that... You're definitely not a child any more." 

Beyond puzzled, but reassured that Trowa's emotions had calmed back to that undetectable simmer, Quatre nodded. 

Faint irritation and other pleasant buzzing emotions heralded the approach of Duo-- it was unmistakably Duo, because no one Quatre had ever met was capable of so many emotions at one time, often conflicting. 

Duo was searching for something, and nearing the restroom. Quatre focused on the door a breath before Duo burst in, humming colorfully and chewing on his fingernail. 

Trowa removed his hand from Quatre swiftly, faintly surprised at Duo's appearance. Duo betrayed no astonishment however; only excitement, as ever. 

"Quatre!" Duo belted, making sure his voice reverberated and amplified against the walls. "Two birdies with one Duo, I'm psychic, finding you both in one spot after Heero kicked me out to go look! Hah! Now we can get back before he eats all the pizza-- you should see how he eats!" Duo's eyes widened into comical circles as he grabbed Quatre's arm and tugged. "Like a freakin' garbage disposal, worse than me! And that's pretty bad." 

Duo waved frantically for Trowa to follow him as he dragged Quatre across the linoleum. "Iria came by to say she couldn't stop for lunch, too bad, she's paying for it so I feel kinda guilty we'll just save her a few slices right? Come on, I'm hungry! Heero wouldn't even let me have one piece unless I went to find you guys." 

Pitiful sniffles and low key grumbles ensued. Quatre couldn't help but feel sympathetic, really. 

"So what were you two doing in the bathroom anyway?" Duo piped suddenly, giving Quatre his undivided attention. "If I didn't know better I'd say your favorite hang out was the bathroom. Save anyone today?" 

Quatre's glare was ineffective, as he'd assumed it would be. "No, the good Samaritan in me seems to have subsided. I actually feel the urge to stuff someone's braid down the toilet, and flush--" 

Duo gasped loudly, and rocketed away from Quatre, placing one of his hands dramatically over his heart while clutching his braid with the other. 

"You sound like Heero!!" Duo forced a petrified scream and reattached himself to Quatre's arm. "S'okay, I forgive you your transgressions. Just as long as you let me come to your banquet. Prime riiiiib..." 

Quatre caught Trowa's peaceful smile over Duo's head. Having a replacement victim, Trowa was no longer subject to Duo's eccentricity. 

_ Of course he was at peace, _Quatre reasoned. _He's not being drooled on._ He continued walking, and tried unsuccessfully to prod Duo out of his reveries about Hilde's cooking...   
  


  


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**Domo arigatou:** Well. O_o; If you made it this far without beating yourself to death on the keyboard, then I'll know you read this chapter, and for that I thank you.. ^__^ Continue! :D  



	11. Part 11

Psychosomatic Agency  
Part 11  
By tan

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**Warnings:** AU, shounen ai, 3x4, 1x2, 5xH, eventual 4+6, and 6x13... o____o; Did I get it all? Sap, an attempt at drama, poor to no plot, attempted humor, blah blah blah.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Gundam Wing or any characters therein.   
**Summary:** Quatre Winner returns home from Arcadia Asylum.  
  
**Note:** 8/7/02: o_O;; Been a while... XD LOL. I've written some, but haven't posted, and I've updated the chapters a bit, but I'm too lazy to upload them here just yet. If interested, you can access them at http://nekobo.com/~tantrys. ^____^v Enjoi. 

* * *

  
  


  
  
**PART 11**  
  


  
  


Quatre decided that fate, chance, and destiny were really weird concepts. Especially when they incorporated themselves into his life. 

It seemed that past friends, and new friends, had been friends *around* being Quatre's friend. And now that he was flung into the milieu... 

"It's like... we're complete. Cool!" Duo cheered. He hugged a pizza box, and scooted it away from Heero's questing hands, all the while beaming at Quatre and puffing up to explain himself. 

"Talk about coincidence! I lived right next to Wufei and Hilde for years! Then he moved here, and when Hilde got that big cooking degree she moved, too." Duo let out a short laugh, and shook his head. "I didn't know she moved *here* and met Wufei! Married! Hahaha!" 

_ Coincidence, _ Quatre agreed. _ I'm sorry I don't know Wufei or Hilde better. I'd be able to ask them about Duo, Heero... and Trowa... _ Quatre eyed Trowa around his pizza. 

"Did you know Mrs. Hilde and Wufei, too?" 

Trowa looked up from a newspaper article about the circus in downtown Sanq. His smile was faint but comfortable. 

"No. I met Duo at college. He was in a composition class with Heero and I." 

Duo began buzzing. Quatre pressed his knuckles to his lips against an amused smile. _ His emotions are so powerful! Like he has no restraint! It's wonderful, in a way... _

Apparently, Trowa's brief narrative wasn't enough to satisfy Duo. The braided man straightened from his perch on Heero's desk, and cleared his throat loudly. 

"It was a fine October day at Gundam University; the first year for hundreds of ambitious students wishing to pursue a career in the delicate art of business securities--" 

"Shut up," Heero ordered absently. He was scowling more at his computer screen than Duo, who wasn't affected because he wasn't listening anyway. He'd found his soapbox, and wasn't about to relinquish it just yet. 

Duo winked at Quatre, and straightened his tie before continuing. The tie was still crooked, but Duo's narration was flawless. 

"Duo Maxwell, a confident, handsome young freshman, strolled into his Composition for Business class. He was fashionably late, so there was only one seat at the very front, next to a guy with a really funny hair style-- no offense, Trowa." 

"None taken," Trowa replied softly. "And you came in twenty minutes late." Quatre giggled at Duo's sheepish shrug. 

"That's fashionable. Anyway! Duo sat next to Trowa, and started up a friendly conversation. It was pretty one-sided, but Duo could tell that behind that silence was an intelligent, fun-loving guy." 

Duo paused ominously, and sprang toward Quatre in a half crouch. His eyes narrowed, and his voice dropped to a dramatic whisper. 

"Suddenly, a scary, evil voice interrupted Duo's life history! 'Shut the hell up, or I'll kill you!' It said." Duo stepped away, and leveled his shoulders. "Naturally, Duo wasn't afraid. Just curious. So he leaned over Trowa to see who dared threaten such a lovable guy. And guess who it was." 

"Heero?" Quatre laughed. Heero didn't even twitch. Duo nodded quickly, and sprinted around Heero's desk to capture the simmering security commissioner's shoulders. 

"Exactly. Heero threatened Duo repeatedly during the class, and all through lunch when Duo invited" ("forced," Trowa coughed) "them to eat out. Heero was Trowa's roommate, and since they were both partially mute, they hit it off real well. And since Duo was such a lovable guy, they became best of friends, and eventually Heero and Duo became--" 

_Fear, pride, anxiety--_ Quatre flinched at the sudden influx of emotions, from the least likeliest source-- 

"Shut up," Heero seethed. Duo was silenced, and hurt. 

_ They became lovers, _ Quatre finished. _ And Duo knows why Heero stopped him from saying that. Heero's ashamed... _ Quatre frowned. _ Not ashamed. Nervous. But Duo thinks... _

An uncomfortable pause had filled the room after Duo's abrupt halt. Quatre sighed into it. _ This will probably scare the hell out of them... but they shouldn't be nervous. They love each other. _

"You're lovers," Quatre murmured. 

Shock flooded Heero, and he fought for some control. Duo was surprised as well, but even more curious than ever, about Quatre. Nothing more than a brief catch in a constant hum of calm radiated from Trowa. Quatre wiped his fingers off with a paper napkin, and raised his eyes slowly. 

"You shouldn't be worried about how others will respond," he told them softly. "It's not important that I understand your feelings. Just as long as you do." 

The silence continued, and they stared at Quatre as if he might sprout wings and fly around their heads like a harpy. Or an angel. Quatre was dumbfounded at that image. It was a clear, distinct response from Duo. _Of *me*. _

"You never know," Quatre continued in a brighter tone. He stood from his chair, and moved to gather up the empty pizza boxes and trash. Heero handed him a box wordlessly, and Quatre smiled. "You never know," he repeated. "I might understand you perfectly." 

"Yeah," Duo muttered. "I bet you do..." 

A small alarm wailed in Quatre's head, and his smile dropped. Duo was suspicious-- not maliciously, but very, very intrigued. 

"I--I'll see you all at the banquet?" Only brief nods and bright, thoughtful eyes responded. 

  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


Iria didn't come within twenty-five feet of Quatre during the preparations for his banquet. That wasn't saying much, considering Quatre had elected to hibernate in his room most of the afternoon. Especially after the call... 

Dr. Peerson had contacted Quatre's conference line, to confirm a visit from a partner psychiatrist early Saturday. Quatre had it written in pen on his organizer. 

  
  


  
_// "How are you, Quatre?" The doctor murmured. He used that gentle tone on all of his patients; especially the violent ones. Over the years, Quatre had discovered the doctor's soft words to be laced with pity, and they were sometimes mocking. _

"I'm fine," Quatre replied. His hands were clenched beneath the desk, and he forced a smile at the video screen. Dr. Peerson nodded. 

"No problems? Your sister said you felt anxious coming home...?" 

"I would think that's only natural, Doctor," Quatre replied evenly. "I'm very happy to be home. I'm taking my medication as you instructed--" 

"That's not what Iria said," Dr. Peerson oozed. "She mentioned you had an episode today, Quatre. You slapped the pills out of her hand... She will be able to pick up replacements by tomorrow, but..." 

Quatre looked away from Dr. Peerson's accusing gaze. The doctor's eyes made him ashamed, and afraid. Disgusted, and sad... 

"She... Iria wouldn't listen to me. She doesn't realize that I'm an adult." 

"An adult? Quatre... I don't want you to take this the wrong way... but you *are* still a child. Your imagination is still a very strong force in your life..." Dr. Peerson attempted a reassuring smile. To Quatre, it was tense, and fake. 

"Those pills will help your transition into an adult. But you have to take them Quatre." 

"Of course, doctor..." //

  
  


  
_ How could Iria tell him that?! She *is* just like father, right down to pretending my 'problems' started so 'suddenly'. _

"I've always been like this," he growled at the computer screen. _ Things just became more obvious as I got older... and when father considered it too obvious... _

How could anyone send their child away for *six* years?! He acted like he didn't care! 

But he did. When... as he was dying, he was so sad... and angry at me... 

*knock* 

"Master Quatre-- your presence is requested in the ballroom. Your guests are arriving..." 

"Thank you..."   
  


  


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**Ehhh heh heh:** Part eleven. Oi, I wonder how long this is gonna play out. ::snarf:: T____T;;;  



	12. Part 12

Psychosomatic Agency  
Part 12  
By tan

* * *

**Warnings:** AU, shounen ai, 3x4, 1x2, 5xH, eventual 4+6, and 6x13... o____o; Did I get it all? Sap, an attempt at drama, poor to no plot, attempted humor, blah blah blah.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Gundam Wing or any characters therein.   
**Summary:** Quatre Winner returns home from Arcadia Asylum.  
  
**Note:** 8/7/02: o_O;; Been a while... XD LOL. I've written some, but haven't posted, and I've updated the chapters a bit, but I'm too lazy to upload them here just yet. If interested, you can access them at http://nekobo.com/~tantrys. ^____^v  
  
You're going to hate me for leaving off at this chapter. Say it with me-- 'cliffhanger! arrg!' 

* * *

  
  


  
  
**PART 12**  
  


  
  


_ He's very handsome. _

"What are you thinking about?" 

"Nothing." 

"Hmm," Relena murmured. "'Nothing' is making you blush? Quatre, you've been staring at someone for twenty minutes..." She interjected a dramatic sigh. "There are so many people here-- I can't figure out who it is..." 

_ *Blushing*?! _ Quatre gave Relena what he hoped was a nonchalant frown, although it was probably more panicked than casual. 

"What makes you think it's a person?" He glanced quickly at Trowa's distant figure before giving her his full attention. 

Relena blinked her eyes innocently. She looked marvelous tonight in a pastel pink gown, matching shoes and purse, which she'd used to beat Quatre with when he'd laughed at her color choice. 

She was playing the color fully. Pink brought out her eyes, and it brought down one's defenses: who would suspect such a charming, beautiful young lady to be the bearer of a sharp wit, and tongue? 

"I'm Chief of Personnel-- it's my job to know these things." Relena wrapped a comforting arm around Quatre's shoulders when he folded his arms to pout. "And I'm your friend, Quatre." She squeezed him cheerfully, and leaned closer to whisper in his ear. 

"I've got it narrowed down to six people. Well, five since one of them ran off with a waiter..." 

Quatre wondered if he could wring Relena's neck, without anyone noticing... _ Then I'd have to add premeditated murder to my list of ailments. Wouldn't Iria be proud? _

"Your brother's here," Quatre sighed. _ If I can't choke my friend to death, I'll try and change the subject. Yes, much less violent. _

Relena laughed charmingly at Quatre's obvious attempt to redirect the conversation. Even she admitted he was a master at distraction. But Relena was also very good at thwarting his attempts. 

"Shall we greet him, then? He hasn't seen you since grade school." 

Apparently deciding not to harass Quatre further, she steered his shoulders gently in the direction of the front doors. Quatre planted his feet on the hardwood floor, and pointed in the opposite direction. 

"He's in the back. Probably sneaked in through the kitchen..." _ Rashid is having a fit, _ Quatre mused. He could feel threads of tension, and definite irritation; very obviously and uncharacteristically Rashid. 

Zechs had always been a master at ruffling Rashid's feathers-- and an angry Rashid was the only thing that frightened Zechs, at least marginally. 

Relena hummed softly, then obediently turned Quatre around. 

"You'll have to tell me how you know these things someday, Quatre," she whispered. Quatre was pleased that she didn't stop to ask why, or how, or state the impossible like everyone else. It was so rare to have unconditional acceptance... 

As they neared the dining hall, voices rose and fell in the rhythm of an argument. Rashid was nearing the edge of his tolerance. The responding presence that Quatre detected was highly amused. 

"... impossible to use the front doors, Mr. Marquis? They are there for a reason." 

"How conventional Rashid!" 

"It's normal, Mr. Marquis..." 

"Normal is extremely overrated. Now, just lead me to wherever the prime rib is kept, minus Mrs. Schrieber-Chang please. I'll be in and out of your jurisdiction before you can say 'it's a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Marquis!'" 

Quatre stifled a giggle as Rashid mulled through Zechs' speech, then fumed silently, attempting calm, but gradually and assuredly failing. Relena stepped boldly into hall, unaware of the imminent explosion of Rashid. _ Not that it would stop her, _ Quatre observed. 

Relena struck a defiant, superior pose in the middle of the room between Rashid at one end of the banquet table, and Zechs at the other. She paused for effect, then pointed her pink enameled fingernail at Zechs. Quatre watched from the safety of the hallway. 

"You. Bad Zechs. No food until dinner, and you're definitely not getting any treats for dessert." Relena glanced back at Quatre, and winked. "It's primitive, but it's the only way to handle him sometimes..." She sighed dramatically. 

"I love you, too," Zechs muttered. Quatre grinned, because Zechs did love her, and Relena was beaming happily as well. Sauntering footsteps approached, and a slender, pale haired figure slithered into view. 

Zechs had let his hair grow out. It fell mid-back, straightened slightly from its natural wave, and sun bleached white. His face rested gently on Relena's head, and he kissed her with thin, pale lips. 

"Too much perfume," he murmured into her hair. Relena didn't physically rise to the bait, but Quatre knew from experience that such a statement did not bode well for Zechs later. _ And her purse is *heavy!* _

"Shut up and be civil, it's Quatre's party. Come say hello." She pulled away and pivoted Zechs to face Quatre lurking in the hall. Quatre stepped forward eagerly. It felt good to see another childhood friend-- 

Shock. Desire. Quatre faltered in his steady approach, then stopped altogether at Zechs' flux of emotions. _ Desire? _

"*That's* Quatre?" Zechs' brows raised, partly disbelieving, and mostly appreciative. His eyes raked over Quatre's figure slowly, and eventually leveled with Quatre's curious gaze. Desire. 

"He grew up nicely," Relena affirmed proudly. "He won't show me, but I think he has a six-pack--" 

"Relena!" Quatre finally squeaked, after he blushed the color of her handbag. Relena laughed at him, and escorted Zechs the remaining distance to Quatre. She paused to capture Quatre's arm, then continued forward. Rashid retreated in the opposite direction, muttering darkly. 

"Don't worry, Eye Candy. We'll go swimming later; I'm patient." Relena grinned sharkishly. 

"Eye candy," Zechs hummed. Quatre swallowed nervously. 

_ Desire-- it can't be for *me*. Well, it can, but it's damn hard to believe. This is me. I'm not desirable, I'm... *me*-- hardly 'eye candy'._

"Relena, a moment please?" Iria waved from the ballroom doorway as the three approached. She was buzzing, Quatre noticed. Iria was in her element at social functions; a good thing considering Quatre wasn't wonderfully adept at handling them. 

Iria smiled cordially at Quatre, and beamed when Zechs kissed her hand. 

"It's been a while, Zechs. You look great-- look at your hair!" Iria laughed as Zechs tossed it over his shoulder, and struck a model pose. Relena elbowed him aside. 

"Treize is here?" Relena demanded importantly. Iria nodded sharply, and the two stalked off. They shifted into business mode effortlessly. 

"Treize? Kushrenada?" Zechs wondered aloud. He looked at Quatre expectantly. "Isn't he Winner Corp's rival?" Quatre nodded. "Your sister invited him to your welcome home party??" 

"Diplomacy," Quatre muttered. Zechs mirrored Quatre's grin, and they lapsed into a comfortable, pregnant silence. Zechs was appraising him, and from what Quatre could discern... 

_He likes what he sees. I'm blushing again-- _ Quatre ducked his head, and decided to try something resembling conversation. 

"How have you been, Zechs?" _ Real smooth. _

Zechs smiled languidly, and moved across the hall toward Quatre. They were effectively shielded from the ballroom's view, and definitely alone. 

_ Say something else-- this is worse than with Trowa! At least I had no idea what he was feeling!! _ Quatre tried a nervous smile as Zechs spoke. 

"I've been traveling a lot. Italy, mostly. Beautiful beaches." He paused before Quatre, and leaned against the wall. The crisp white cotton of his dress shirt set off the golden tan of his hands. His eyes twinkled, to match. 

Zechs leaned close as if to share a whisper, then wrapped elegant fingers around Quatre's wrist, and stroked the palm with his thumb. 

"It's been too long, Quatre," he murmured. "You've changed..." 

Quatre shivered minutely. _ Not completely... I can still feel... _

He's going to kiss me.   
  


  


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**Don't hurt me:** I know I hate cliffhangers. I really, really do. ^^;;; I've made lots and lots of notes on this fic, mostly about characters and tiny bits of background. It's at http://nekobo.com/~tantrys..... o___O;;;  



	13. Part 13

**Psychosomatic Agency:**  
Part 13  
a shounen ai gundam wing fanfiction  
by tan

* * *

**Warnings**: AU, shounen ai, 3x4, 1x2, 5xH, 46, sap, etc. And in case you're curious, eventual 6x13 , and a stalker Dorothy...? More developments pending...  
**Disclaimer**: I don't own Gundam Wing or any characters therein. I do sort of own the alternate universe plot. Sort of...  
**Summary**: Quatre Winner is released from Arcadia Asylum.  
_italics_ = thoughts, or dreams, or memories...  
**Added**: 8/12/04... haven't edited it yet...

* * *

**PART 13**

Two very soft lips barely had a moment's contact with Quatre's, before they pulled away and the warmth of Zechs' presence vanished.

"Hahaha! I can just imagine what Hilde will say when I pop in! HA!"

"'Hide the food'?" a low voice offered.

Quatre's mouth tingled. _ I need to blink. _ So he did, and focused on the back of Zechs' head as it turned the corner into the ballroom. Zechs paused, and turned to wink slightly at Quatre before vanishing.

_ He kissed me. Zechs, Relena's brother, kissed me. _

"Quatre! Hey... what's wrong? Get a hold of some bad hors d'oeuvres? Hey, are you breathing?"

A light thump between Quatre's shoulder blades sent him stumbling forward, and set his lungs to expanding again. Fuzzy stars fluttered out of view, and the humming sensation on his lips faded.

_ Holy sh--- _

"Are you alright?"

Trowa. A wonderful, solid presence, welcome after such a confounding... event... _Holy sh-- _ Quatre stopped himself. He was more articulate than that. He had an audience, and if there was one thing he'd accomplished at Arcadia, it was hiding his true emotional and mental state. He'd learned to lie.

"Fine," he replied, lifting his chin enough to stare into Trowa's peaceful gaze. The man was so level and serene, even if Quatre detected something more turbulent just beneath, the man had amazing control over his emotions. It grounded Quatre, and he smiled. "Just a little tired, I guess." He glanced around at the other two in the wayward company. Duo had his arm around Heero's neck and Heero bore the weight easily; but not without a slightly twitching eyebrow and occasional nudge when Duo squeezed too hard.

"Why'd you all leave the party?" Quatre asked, straightening his shirt and looking up at Trowa with a sweet smile. Trowa almost smiled-- meaning the corner of his lips twitched and gave the semblance of an almost-smile-- but Duo responded.

"Lookin' for you, of course!" He bounded away from Heero and latched on to Quatre, swinging him around like a rag doll and chattering happily. "Food's great-- Hilde outdid herself-- music sucks" Duo paused to make a very unpleasant gagging sound "but one little person was missing! The Party Boy! Ha ha ha!"

Quatre gasped as Duo's arm tightened around his windpipe. "Me--? Ack!" Duo slung him around again before releasing him. At such a velocity-- 50 Duo miles per second-- Quatre hurtled through the air and landed smack into Trowa, who stumbled from the impact, but caught him nonetheless. A small wisp of satisfaction erupted from Duo, and Quatre even felt something like amusement mixed with Heero's usual brew of alertness, sadness, and for bit of spice and conflict, love.

"Yeah. We don't know any of those stuffed-shirts, 'sides Hilde, Wufei and Iria. Ya see," Duo folded his arms and cocked his head; what Quatre would come to recognize as Duo's explanatory pose. "We're not used to all that formality; and I have no idea what half of the hors d'oeuvres are! I think I choked on some duck caviar or something! Heero had to give me CPR--" Duo stopped and a wide, toothy grin filled his face. He chuckled, and let out an 'oof!' when Heero elbowed him.

Quatre giggled softly, and stretched his palms out from fists. He noticed then that they splayed out across Trowa's firm, warm chest, and he couldn't help noting that he was still in Trowa's arms, that Trowa had one hand on Quatre's hip, and he had yet to let go.

_ ... That warmth... kind of a humming in the back of my mind... it's coming from Trowa... _ Quatre held his breath, not wanting to step away from Trowa's embrace, yet unable to think of a reason to stay. _ What is it? It's... pleasant; Trowa likes it... but he's nervous about it... what...? _

Trowa stepped back; there were voices nearing, coming from the banquet hall door. Seconds later a group of laughing socialites erupted, and taking no note of the youngsters gathered and or splayed across each other, they flocked toward the front doors, where a prim doorman met them with coats and hats, then they left. The four of them watched patiently, not speaking until several minutes passed and the doorman had stopped staring at them.

"Let's get out of here."

Quatre blinked. Disappointment filled him, and he nodded his understanding. It was nice that they came, even if banquets weren't their deal. Heero may have been the security commissioner, but he wasn't required to attend anything that was already guarded by 500 armed, battle-ready men.

He tried a smile, until he saw Duo loping toward him again. He would have shrieked in terror but the braided young man was too swift, and Quatre was caught up once again by wiry arms and generally peaceable intent. Duo oozed cheer, with shadows that made Quatre wonder... "Ehhggckk--" But not when Duo was squeezing the life out of him.

"You're coming with us! Hey, Security Guard," Duo called to Heero. "What'll Relena and Iria think if we kidnap their heir and top stock holder? It's just for the night," he added, as if this would make up for one: the insult, and two: the implication that a man of Heero's occupation would ever consider kidnapping an important client such as Quatre...

Heero's response: a muffled, disinterested grunt, several swift steps that skirted Duo entangled around Quatre, and led him to the front door and the doorman, who opened the door for Heero with a split second to spare, before the stalking security commissioner could ram into it.

Duo followed, shouting at Heero for leaving them. He dragged Quatre along behind him, and Trowa followed silently. That hum had faded, and Quatre couldn't remember exactly how it had felt, it'd been so faint and soothing and at odds with the nothingness he usually felt from Trowa. _ No, not nothing,_ Quatre corrected himself. _ Everything's hidden. He holds everything back... _

The night was warm, slightly humid, and very bright. The moon was full, the stars were out, and all of Quatre's property was lit by lamps and spotlights. A valet had jumped-to when Heero stormed out of the mansion, glaring and exuding ill intent toward anyone who didn't do as he wanted, before he said it. As Duo purposely bumped into Heero waiting at the curb, a simple, black sedan pulled up and the four piled in; Duo relegated to the back seat with Quatre because Heero was being 'peevish', so Duo claimed.

Quatre smiled as Duo continued complaining about how peevish and irritable Heero could be. The man was very descriptive and playful, and knew all the right things to say to get a huff or scandalized muttering out of Heero.

Quatre laughed, and realized he was happy and hopeful, and all his worries and shocks (Zechs, Dr. O., Iria) were pushed back... for so long, all he'd ever done was think and worry, fear and long to feel something good, something that was his own and not so negative and dark. Sure, he was always influenced by others' emotions, but he knew which were his own. That was what had kept him from the brink of insanity: distinguishing between what he felt, what he sensed from others.

_ I'd be lost, if I didn't have that division, _ he reminded himself. _ More lost than Iria or Dr. Peerson, or my father, could ever imagine. _

His brooding was interrupted as Duo suddenly flung himself over the back of Heero's seat and wiggled between Trowa and the driver, a very, very irate Heero. The car stopped too sharply, and Duo, unhindered by such restrictions as a shoulder or lap belt, flew forward. There was a loud and painful thud, and Quatre winced.

"IDIOT!"

Duo's muffled laughter eased the tension Quatre felt from Heero, coming in horrified and furious waves (he was afraid Duo was hurt). Trowa opened the passenger door and got out, so that Duo could sit and be scolded, instead of crouch on the median between the two seats. Quatre eased over so Trowa could sit next to him. The car started again, and Heero actually started talking-- well, seething, and threatening...

Quatre smiled at Trowa, and the night began.

* * *

**Notes:** I thought this story had died too! :D 


	14. Part 14

Psychosomatic Agency: Part 14  
a shounen ai gundam wing fanfiction  
by tan

* * *

**Warnings**: AU, shounen ai, 3x4, 1x2, 5xH, 46, sap, etc. And in case you're curious, eventual 6x13 , and a stalker Dorothy...? More developments pending...

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Gundam Wing or any characters therein. I do sort of own the alternate universe plot. Sort of...

**Summary**: Quatre Winner is released from Arcadia Asylum.

_italics_ = thoughts, or dreams, or memories...

**Added**: 8/12/04

* * *

**PART 14**  
  
"... So I was flirting with that girl over in the mail room, you know, the blonde" ("Which one? There's ten.") "... she's got blue eyes. Anyway! Lemme speak!" (snort) "She was moving around a few envelopes, most with addresses, names of people in the office and stuff. Some just had names on 'em; big manila envelopes, all addressed to 'Relena'."

Quatre paused, his glass part way to his lips, soda fizzing madly. _ Relena? _

Duo finished chewing a mouthful of french fries before continuing. "Well, like I said the envelopes had Relena's name and one other on 'em in black marker. I saw your name on one." He nodded as Heero straightened in his seat and finally looked interested... if a stolid glare was interested... "So I worked the conversation around to what she was doing, and what all the envelopes were for, and she told me that the big ones were going to Relena, chief of personnel. They were all background checks."

Heero was quiet, long enough for Duo to stuff his cheeks with the remains on his plate. Then he snorted and leaned back. Quatre had noted a slight twinge of concern at first, but then Heero seemed to dismiss Duo's tale and the implications it held.

"Aren't you worried she'll find something? Or nothing?" Duo demanded absently. He was scraping Heero's plate onto his own, and slurping noisily from Heero's glass. Heero ignored him-- still upset about Duo's stunt in the car.

"I don't know why Relena would investigate you-- your credentials should've been enough, combined with Iria's recommendation," Quatre offered. "I know Relena likes to be thorough, but you're our security commissioner..."

Duo's pleased laughter echoed in the empty diner. It'd been the only one open in a forty-mile radius around Quatre's estate. Forty miles, with Duo talking the whole way, to eat second-rate, greasy food... but they had the entire place to themselves; even the proprietor-- 'Ma'-- seemed to have vanished.

"I know why she's interested in ole' Heero. He he." Duo leered at Heero's blank face, then turned and whispered loudly to Quatre. "Relena fancies Heero. Ha ha ha! She's been head-over-heels since they first met. Ha ha!" Duo continued laughing, eating, and grinning at Heero; a rather unpleasant combination, Quatre discovered... bits of french-fried potato were flying...

_ Relena... and Heero... _ Quatre winced, and decided not to put too much imagination toward that thought. Their personalities, their methods... _ Heero seems to think the same thing. Did he just shudder?? _

"What time is it?" Duo demanded suddenly. "Is it too late to get ice cream from that little store we saw on the way here?"

"... Five o'clock in the morning..." Trowa answered, his voice quiet, almost a soft hum after Duo's squawk. "Yes." He added. "It's too late."

Quatre stood up suddenly from his chair, sending it scooting back across the linoleum floor. Duo gaped at him, Heero blinked, and Trowa stood with him, alert for hidden dangers. His eyes were dark and focused on Quatre's horrified face.

"I have to get home--" He choked out. "I have-- a-- a meeting in less than two hours!" _ Iria will _kill_ me if I miss meeting Dr. O. _

"Let's go, then!" Duo trumpeted. He tried to stand up quickly, but his braid had been threaded through the bars on the back of the chair (Heero's face creased into a long, slow smile while Duo wailed and struggled. Revenge, of course). Trowa left money for their bill on the table and followed Quatre out the door, brandishing keys and a peaceful expression.

_ Not much different from his usual expression, _ Quatre amended, _ But it matches what he's feeling this time. I'm glad. _ He smiled back, trying to suppress the knot forming in his stomach and throat, and the panic...

_What if he sends me back?_

* * *

**Notes:** That's it for now! Kind of a short, crappy ending to this part, but I'll try to work on it... But be sure to stay tuned! oO;; And thanks for reading! 


	15. Part 15

Psychosomatic Agency: Part 15  
a shounen ai gundam wing fanfiction  
by tan

* * *

**Warnings**: AU, shounen ai, 3x4, 1x2, 5xH, 13x6, sap, drama, etc. , and a stalker Dorothy...? More developments pending... Please forgive misspellings, grammatical errors, and any excessive use of commas in previous chapters...

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Gundam Wing or any characters therein. I do sort of own the alternate universe plot. Sort of...

**Summary**: Quatre Winner is released from Arcadia Asylum.

_italics_ thoughts, or dreams, or memories...

**Added**: 10/4/07 (about three years after the last chapter was posted). Wow huh?

* * *

**PART 15**

At 6:50 exactly the doorbell sounded, and Quatre grimaced. For the last half hour he'd struggled to keep his eyes open. It hadn't been too difficult; Iria had conducted a twenty minute long scolding the second he'd walked over the threshold. Her presentation had been very impressive; lots of hand waving, wide, affronted eyes and loud, exasperated sighs. _I give her a 9.5,_ Quatre reflected, yawning widely as he moved to open the door.

After he'd been dropped off on his doorstep (Duo had pummeled his shoulder, and had ordered him to go out again within the week! pummel pummel!), his fear had decreased sharply-- his brain couldn't be bothered with the effort of being terrified...

Until the door swung open, revealing a short, stubby man with an immense beard, bald head and narrow slits of eyes that scowled at Quatre, as if chastising him for everything he'd ever done, hadn't done, or would do, that could possibly irritate or disgust the man... Dr. O.

_I've never met the man before! _Quatre straightened his back absently, and pulled his hands into fists. _But I'm sure Dr. Peerson told him everything he needs to know about me... _Quatre attemped a grim smile.

"Good morn--"

Dr. O.'s lips tightened in disapproval. "I'm not here for pleasantries, Mr. Winner." He shifted, moving further into Quatre's home. "I'm here to conduct a psycological evaluation for a recently released patient of the Arcadia Asylum. We'll need a private location where in I may perform my tests, question your sister, and administer the necessary medication--"

""Administer medication'?" Quatre interrupted, knowing his speaking would perturb the man more than even his squint and pursed lips could express. "I don't need to have anything 'administered', I take my pills of my own volition."

The doctor's expression didn't change, and he didn't speak. Quatre frowned. What was he waiting for--?

"Dr. O., it's good to have you in our home."

Iria breezed in, moving past Quatre so swiftly that a puff of air ruffled his hair; it smelled like her shampoo. "We can move into the office, it's quiet and private... Come on, Quatre." She didn't even look at him. Her eyes were focused on Dr. O.; she wasn't smiling, though, not even to greet their guest.

_She-- she _told _him that I need to have my pills administered?! And he's going to do it?!! _Quatre's body trembled. He was beyond furious... _Just get through this, let him do whatever to you, you'll survive, and then... _He didn't know what he was going to say to Iria, or if he'd be able to say anything at all. _She's going to drive me _really _nuts. _He followed the two down the hall silently.

Somehow... Somehow, Quatre kept his cool, held his tongue, and kept both hands clasped together tightly in his lap. Somehow he survived their discussion-- ranging from his sanity, bodily functions (how that factored into anything, he had yet to discern), and new medication that the National Drug Administration had just approved for psychotics.

_I have more restraint than I ever realized,_ he thought tiredly. Iria patted him on the knee, and Dr. O prepared a syringe.

The new medication, Epyon, was intended to slow the consciousness and dim emotions, since Quatre's diagnosis had been "Emotionally Deranged" . Side effects: dizziness, lethargy, dilated pupils, nausea, abdominal pain, headaches... The list went on. But the benefits-- as Dr. O recited with relish-- went far beyond any discomfort or pain that may occur.

"This drug is designed to help people with your disease, Mr. Winner." Dr. O clipped his words sharply and prepped Quatre's arm for injection. His grip was firm on Quatre's elbow, then suddenly gone. The flesh around the injection site burned and grew red.

Quatre had kept his eyes closed since consenting to the injection. He could see now way out of receiving it, without risking being sent back to Arcadia. _I will not go back. I will __**not**__ go back... _He didn't open them when Dr. O offered his farewells and a promise to return in one month, provided medication was taken regularly, and Iria continued her reports... Iria saw him out of the office, then returned to Quatre's side.

"... Quatre?"

His arm burned a little. His neck was cramping from having his head hanging in defeat for so long. _I can't even look at her,_ he realized. _I might scream._

The doorman sidled into the doorway, his shadow falling over Quatre. "Miss Winner? Another guest arrived as the doctor was departing. A Mr. Marquis..."

Iria sighed. "I won't even ask why he's here. Show him into the den, please. We'll be in shortly."

The doorbell rang, causing a disconcerted and harried expression to twist the servant's face. He rushed off. Iria chuckled.

"Seems we're pretty popular today... Quatre..." She hesitated; Quatre could feel her biting her lip, her hesitation and... Was that regret?! _It's a bit late for that--_ His stomach cramped. His thoughts were getting fuzzy; the medication worked quickly. He raised his head and stood from the chair as the doorman reappeared, ruffled.

"Sir, Miss," he began, "It seems we have three more guests waiting in the den. All for Mr. Winner." He waited, not quite sure what he or any of them was supposed to do about such an announcement... Then he nodded and stalked away, job done. Leave it to the people who lived here to sort it out.

Iria forced a smile and touched Quatre's arm. "All for you? My, my, my, you've certainly gained quite the following already! It must be because you've grown so handsome and mature..."

_It's like I'm deaf,_ he thought, not listening to her cheerful words but straining desperately to hear something else... _It's not my ears... Something else is muffled; stifled._ He rubbed his forehead and obeyed Iria's light tugging on his arm. She... Was worried about him... But already distracted, mind falling away from concern for him and to...

He lost his concentration then. The sensation was like falling off a cliff, so sharp and abrupt that he stumbled in the middle of the hall. Iria guided him gently.

_I can't-- I can't feel her. I can't sense what... How..._ His face contorted and of its own accord his fist pressed to his chest, his heart aching.

_It's __**terrible**__... It's like a part of me is missing-- torn away-- it hurts worse than it ever has--_.

They entered the brightly lit den, cavernous in size and classic in decor. The four guests were seated comfortably in luxurious arm chairs, sofas, and in the case of Duo, right in the middle of the floor. Mirror smiles erupted at the sight of the pale blonde, who actually looked a bit paler than usual...

"You're a popular man, Quatre," Zechs drawled.

Quatre stared at him, deaf to whatever the emotion in his words had insinuated. He blinked slowly. Zechs stood then, and stepped up to Quatre.

Quatre trembled, his eyes wide and dry-- he blinked fiercely. "I'll come by another time. We'll talk, alone..."

_Is he going to kiss me again--??_ Quatre wondered stupidly. He couldn't tell. _I can't even tell if I'm standing-- _But all Zechs did was run his hand down Quatre's arm, over the injection site hidden under his sleeve. Quatre flinched, but Zechs was already out of the den and halfway down the hall. Iria fidgeted next to him.

"Who was THAT??" Duo demanded, bolting up from the floor like a spring. "He was totally eating you up with his eyes!!" The braided man was scandalized and he bounced up to inspect Quatre... The blurry eyed, swaying Quatre who had yet to speak. "I thought he was gonna molest you right in front of us." Duo made a gagging motion and patted Quatre's head. "It's ok. I got your back!"

Iria coughed. "Um... I think Quatre might need some rest--" She frowned and her tone grew more confident and thereby more scolding. "You did stay out all night, and for goodness' sake you're back already!!!"

Duo had the grace to look sheepish. He ducked his head and scuffed his feet on the tile. "We were wondering--" ("YOU Duo," Heero interrupted, "YOU were wondering") "Okay okay I was wondering if we could crash here or something. It's a Saturday, and we were gonna come back after Quatre later anyway... Please?" He tacked the last bit on in an attempt to pacify the bristling Iria.

It seemed to... Almost, work. She huffed, but nodded. "You can have the guestrooms. BUT!! Nobody's going anywhere else until Quatre has fully rested." She glanced nervously at her brother and finally, belatedly, noticed that he didn't seem... Right. He hadn't moved much or said anything since the doctor left. "Come on Quatre; let's get you up to your room... "

"Is he alright?"

_Trowa. _Quatre raised his eyes, slowly. Trowa was standing halfway between Heero and Duo, his face emotionless, his words blank... Of course; Quatre could sense nothing else... _Nothing..._

Iria took a deep breath, cleared her throat. "I'm sure he's just tired." She wrapped her arm around Quatre's shoulders and steered him around. The movement made him sick to his stomach and dizzier, if that was possible. He staggered, but followed Iria's push and pull obediently.

_I'm a zombie,_ he relfected. _There's nothing left of me... _He followed Iria, sad, lost... But too tired and _blank_ to care... He heard the others murmuring behind him. Concern? Confusion? Anger? He didn't know...

* * *

**Notes:** Actually had this part written for a while... just didn't know where to go after it... LOL. I also noticed that my writing style is very odd and kinda hard to follow sometimes... TT; Eh heh... 


	16. Part 16

Psychosomatic Agency: Part 16  
a shounen ai gundam wing fanfiction  
by tan

* * *

**Warnings**: AU, shounen ai, 3x4, 1x2, 5xH, 13x6, sap, drama, etc. , and a stalker Dorothy...? More developments pending... Please forgive misspellings, grammatical errors, and any excessive use of commas in previous chapters...

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Gundam Wing or any characters therein. I do sort of own the alternate universe plot. Sort of...

**Summary**: Quatre Winner is released from Arcadia Asylum.

_italics_ thoughts, or dreams, or memories...

**Added**: 10/4/07

* * *

**PART 16**

Quatre didn't fall asleep so much as he collapsed and faded out of consciousness. He didn't feel the pillow under his head, or the blanket bunched up under him. He didn't notice when tears collected in his eyes and slowly slid down the side of his face, soaking into the fabric. The worst part was that he wasn't crying. He didn't feel anything-- anything at all. It was just another side effect of the Epyon, apparently. He wondered later if his eyes actualy closed, or if his vision just slowly dimmed. His heart thumped once, painfully, and he knew no more.

"...shallow. I think he's freakin' drugged."

"Right," someone snorted.

"No, I'm serious. His pulse is erratic, his eyes are dilated and he hasn't moved since we've been in here. What else could be wrong?"

Quatre could hear voices, and he recognized them. He could hear movement around the room, and he felt someone sit down on the edge of the bed. The light scent of cologne wafted over him. His physical senses were fully functional and accurate, providing him with the necessary information to process the presence of visitors in his room.

But he couldn't _feel_ them.

_I'm so... empty._ Quatre took a deep breath, buyoing his strength and trying-- desperately trying-- to pull together what sense he did have left. He opened his eyes and squinted; they were dry and scratchy, and everything in the room was a blur. The vague shape of Duo's head came into view and moved in close to Quatre's face.

"What are you on??" He demanded. Without warning or due process, Duo's head was smashed into the mattress, muffling his pained shout into the sheets.

"WHY must your mouth move faster than your brain?!" Heero growled, his reprimand translating itself through the grinding of Duo's head into Quatre's bed. Duo flailed and grappled at Heero's hands, desparate to be let up to breathe. Quatre sat up to watch the pair struggle and finally fall to the floor when Heero let go. If everything wasn't so muddled, so gray and empty, Quatre might have laughed. Instead he concentrated on taking another breath and focusing his eyes. There was someone else in the room... Trowa. Trowa was standing by the door. Quatre waiting for his heart to flutter in excitement, just a little, like it usually did when he saw the tall, intriguing man...

Nothing.

Quatre swallowed hard. There was a tangible hole in his person. Something had been ripped cruelly away and replaced by a gaping, bleeding wound. It was awful. It made him feel sick-- or it should have, but he was having a hard time feeling anything. He opened his mouth to try and speak, try to ask why they had come and most of all to explain--

_Explain what?_ He stopped himself. _Explain that I'm on medication for my psychotic episodes? The ones that tell me I can feel others' emotions? _Quatre felt his chin quiver, threatening to let loose a choked sob that he didn't even notice boiling up in his throat. His thoughts were echoes of what they had instructed in Arcadia. The lectures, the hypnosis sessions, the hours of therapy telling him that it was all just his imagnination. Just a disease.

_It's not my imagination._ He knew that. He was more sure of that fact than of anything else in his world. Quatre did not doubt his heart or what he felt-- when he could feel it, anyway...

But... would they understand? Would Duo, Heero ...and Trowa... believe him, when almost no one else did?

"Quatre?"

He jumped. Trowa had called his name. No, not called; merely whispered, as he had moved from his sentry-like station at the door and was perched on the other side of Quatre's bed. Trowa glanced over to where Heero continued to chastise Duo for his utter lack of respect or tact, then turned back to face Quatre. One visible eye caught and held Quatre's gaze, glittering in the dim light peeking through the curtains. It was evening; he had slept the day away...

Trowa didn't continue, and Quatre struggled in the silence. He held his breath and concentrated, pushed at the far reaches of his mind for something-- some semblance of that preternatural sense he had come to hate and just as quickly grown to love. It was a part of him (how many times had he said this to Iria? To the doctors?). Without it he could not be what he should.

_I can't __**live**__ without it, _he amended, still straining-- not even knowing what for--

"Whatever it is..." Trowa started, his voice barely rising enough to be intelligible. "We're here for you." Quatre froze, his breath coming in shallow gasps not caused by any medicated stupor. Duo and Heero's argument came to an abrupt halt, treating the room to silence once again. Trowa placed one steady, warm hand on Quatre's, emphasizing his words and what they offered.

_...Worry... Confusion... And steadily fading threads of hurt coming from Duo._ Quatre felt as if he had woken up again; filtering in the sights sounds and **emotions** all around him. The sun set, almost as if mocking his newly returned 'vision.' It plunged the room into a murky darkness... But Quatre smiled. He could see just fine.

* * *

**Notes:** oO... Hm. 


End file.
